


all around me

by barenjunges



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Cancer, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mommy Issues, Not Beta Read, POV Second Person, Sexual Harassment, Stream of Consciousness, Trans Male Character, Unrequited, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 67,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barenjunges/pseuds/barenjunges
Summary: This is an original story based on an old fanfiction of mine and as such, I decided to post it here. Fandom isn't important; all that matters is that this is now a completely original work with new dynamics and characters and plot points but at its very inception, it was inspired by the greatest literary accomplishment of my life.Your name is Kiran and you kind of hate it but only when you're drunk. All you want is a clean slate without getting rid of the old one. The coworker who crawls under your skin and into your clothes; the douchebag friend who smirks at you from the corner of the party; the boy-next-door dating the douchebag who will always be your hero and never love you back, not like that. Not the way he loves his douchebag boyfriend. He's the reason you breathe. He's the reason you keep inviting your coworker over to make you forget. You want a new reason without losing the old one. You want a clean slate.*Please note: I try to tag quite thoroughly for reader's benefits and explore a lot of "problematic" themes in this work. My intention is to not eroticize these subjects but to provide a higher social commentary on them. More notes can be found in the work itself.





	1. clean slate

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: sexual themes including harassment and consent concepts, referenced child abuse.

  
[](http://tinypic.com?ref=25ztu1j)

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=x2um2t)

a clean slate.

 

you know it’s a cliché but that’s never bothered you before. you’re a cliché, a stereotype; you do what people think you’re going to do and it’s not all bad- at least everyone can rely on you. but yeah, it’s kind of a cliché. you always feel better after a run. because it’s a clean slate. you run off all that nervous energy that comes from god knows where and then you shower off the grime and stress and shame and there it is. the clean fucking slate.

 

tomorrow is a new day, and other such clichés like that.

 

you don’t normally _think_ about your stress when you run like this. you also try not to listen to music, or at least not to anything that will make you actually feel something. if you feel something, your day is ruined. you focus on the run. the burn in your shins as you can _feel_ your knees weakening, step by hard fucking step, just like everyone always says. _“running is actually bad for you. for your knees.”_ you fucking know, but it’s what you do. you did track and field in high school and now that you’re 23, you run 6 miles at night.

 

but tonight you accidentally end up _thinking._ you can’t just give yourself over to the hunt. your dad called today. he didn’t _mean_ to talk about your mother, but the subject arose as it inevitably does and you told him you don’t know how she’s doing, you haven’t spoken to her in years and he knows that. he hasn’t spoken to her either. you reminded him that’s the healthy thing to do when you’re divorced, but you kind of get it. he never wanted the divorce. she only cheated once. you don’t hate her for that. you don’t hate her at all. in fact, you really love her. like, _really_ love her. you miss her as much as your dad does. but she’s the one who called you an unforgivable faggot and ran off, so you didn’t chase after her.

 

you love yourself too much for that. your dad has always been sort of a hopeless romantic though and you think he hopes they’ll get back together again eventually and she’ll apologize to you and you’ll be a happy family again. you say again, but the truth is that you were never happy. if she wasn’t screaming she was slapping and she certainly didn’t keep her hands to herself when you came out to her four years ago. you don’t think your dad knows that, just how much she raised her hands to you. you don’t really want him to. he’s far too innocent to know anything like that went on under his roof. plus he’s getting old, so his heart is probably weak and can’t take it. you don’t want to do that to him.

 

you accidentally bring it to mind when you’re running and when you realize you’re _thinking_ about something you shake the thoughts out of your head and turn your music up. there are no lyrics. just a soundtrack to some movie you’ve never seen so it can’t bring up memories of some scene that made you emotional. it’s just you and the run.

 

there’s a breeze tonight. sometimes that means a storm is on its way. you hope not. you hate thunderstorms. the rain is nice enough when it’s not too heavy- when it isn’t soaking the hem of your jeans and dripping down from tree branches onto your bedroom window like a steady stream of someone pissing on the glass. but riley likes thunderstorms. he was at your place the last time it stormed. you made him some coffee and gave him a blanket because he wanted to curl up in a warm little ball- his words. of course you indulged him. of fucking course you did. if riley rosario wants something, riley rosario should fucking get it.

 

you _really_ don’t want to think about riley.

 

you want to focus on the run, so of course your mind goes to sex.

 

specifically, the last time you had it. it was a week and a half ago and the bruises only just faded the past few days. consensual bruises of course, from your 47-year-old coworker who’s really good at getting you to consent. you weren’t so sure the first time it happened- he somehow got you to invite him to your place for dinner since you were both, after all, single bachelors, and you ended up on your knees in front of your own couch with a dick in your mouth. it took a few more “dates” to get it in your ass, but it happened finally and you’ve never regretted it exactly.

 

you can’t put your finger on quite what you do feel about the situation. he comes around all the time now and you’re just grateful that it forces you to cook. you don’t want him taking care of you. you couldn’t stomach that. a man almost as old as your dad seeing how much takeout you order and trying to help you out. that’s what you’re avoiding. so you make sure you have something to cook for him when he comes over. you’ve also started putting your takeout leftovers in plastic containers and telling him you cooked kung pao chicken last night and pray to christ he never asks you to make something that complicated. of course you understand spices, but other than mixing them up and rubbing them on some chicken, you’re at a loss. still, he’s never complained

 

he recently introduced you to his friend hector and you’re a little confused how he met someone your age outside of work. you assume it’s something like grindr. how they became friends is beyond you. you don’t really need to know, but god are you curious.

 

anyway. he’s a nice enough man. but he’s part of why you run, too. you need to run that night off. you need to run all your nights with him off. it makes you feel bad but there’s something deep down that feels disgusting about it. the man is 47 so he’s not exactly in his prime, but you don’t really judge based on looks. it’s not his body that disgusts you. it’s just… his _body._ you don’t mind that he’s hairy or out of shape. you mind that his body is _there, at all, in your space, in your bed, in your head…_

 

but he’s a nice guy. and it’s not his fault. as far as looks go, no one will ever compare to riley.

 

you urge yourself to stop, to forego this train of thought, to focus on your run and not riley rosario, the only guy who’s ever tortured you without knowing it. the bullies in high school - the professors in college - even robert - they knew what they were doing. but riley… he has no clue. he has no clue that you think about him like this. that in your head, you can’t treat him like any other friend. that he’s so far above anyone and everyone you’ve ever known that he’s in a league all his own, one of his own creation, though he doesn't know it. his league is _people who i can’t stop thinking about even if i_ wanted _to, people who are so fucking beautiful it’s like looking into the sun, at an angel with a thousand fucking eyes that stare me down like i’m a worthless bug and a hundred tongues, all laughing at me._

 

riley rosario has a bit of a hold on you. you stopped denying it a long time ago: you’re in love with him. you’re so far gone and you know it’s not exactly healthy or okay but he doesn’t _know,_ and you don’t let it run your life. you just let it ruin it. riley is the best nightmare you’ve ever had. you don’t want to wake up, you just want to stop dreaming.

 

he has a boyfriend. he’s had one for 4 years. a strong, massive boyfriend, and you’re not exactly threatened, nor are you worried about comparing your physiques, but he could definitely kick your ass- and anyone’s ass. that’s what makes you insecure. if riley comes home crying, kristopher can kick their ass. you have a great body. a tall, lean body. but it’s not made for fighting. kristopher, of course, is a gentle giant so he says he isn’t exactly cut out for it either but the point is that he could if riley asked him to. not that you wouldn’t try if riley asked - you’d do anything if it was riley who asked - but you’d end up in the hospital, shattered and ashamed in front of the love of your life.

 

this is such a bizarre hypothetical that you can’t believe you’re entertaining it at all, much less while on a run. you’re about a half a mile from home at this point but you turn off toward the dirt path that gets you there quicker anyway. this run has been a bust. you need to shower and put on fresh sweatpants and clean for three hours until your apartment is totally spotless, tv blaring in the background to distract you from your thoughts. that’s what you want. a clean slate.

 

unfortunately, it’s only wednesday. so while thursday morning is a clean day, it’s still part of a frustrating week; a week that’s been dirtied by a foiled run and is about to be soiled further, you can feel it.

 

it all starts when jeanette leaves the room.

 

the 8am conversation had been perfectly pleasant. a little bit of jeanette’s parenting advice for when you meet that lucky someone and settle down, a little bit of your biting commentary on the nuclear american family being obsolete and jeanette asking if you’ve ever experienced mirth. then a little bit of you apologizing and her insisting she was only joking - in fact, she agrees with you - and a little bit of robert waltzing on in and throwing a sloppy grin your way, causing your heart to somersault and throat to close up. it’s just so _knowing._ you wonder if he’s actually jumping up and down and screaming, _“i fuck kiran and he lets me! he loves it! he has freckles on his shoulders and cries when he comes!”_ and you’re just sitting in a reality that consists only of that _grin._ you stare at him dumbly as jeanette asks how he’s doing and he exchanges pleasantries with her. when he says he’s been lonely the past few nights, you turn sharply to the coffee maker and sweat bullets. he says he might get a dog and all you can imagine is yourself on your hands and knees, hunched over a bowl and trying to eat from it with ears flopping forward and a tail plug up your ass. then, graciously, he says he might get a parrot instead and you can’t come up with anything humiliating for that so you can pour yourself your third cup of coffee in peace.

 

but then jeanette _leaves,_ just like _that,_ as if she doesn’t _care_ if robert accosts you, as if she has no _idea_ you just considered yourself the dog that robert is going to adopt. she just _goes,_ just goes out of the room like none of this is going to happen and leaves you alone with a man who makes feel a way you can’t put into words.

 

he makes it hard to look in the mirror, despite the fact that you know you’re hot. despite the fact that you _know_ you’re attractive. he makes it hard to look at yourself altogether. he makes it hard to see.

 

“maybe you could cure some of that loneliness.”

 

he says it as if it were the natural course of conversation, as if he knows you were listening to him and jeanette while you were in fact trying to do anything but. he says it like you were always part of the conversation and all you can do is turn and look at him over your shoulder with a small grin of your own.

 

“yeah right.”

 

“what if you came to my place for a change?” he offers. “i’ll cook _you_ dinner. let me take care of you for once.”

 

a shiver runs through your body. you turn back to your coffee, grin vanishing.

 

“no thanks.”

 

you’re not actually surprised when his chest hits your back but you gasp all the same. he isn’t hard or anything but his knee does slam against your lower thigh- he’s a good six inches taller than you- and the counter digs into your stomach, causing you to groan which he mistakes for pleasure.

 

“don’t play hard to get. i’ve already had you. i don’t need to get you again.”

 

you don’t say anything initially. you just stare into your coffee and realize if someone walks in you’ll have to file a report with hr and sexual harassment and all that bullshit you don’t want to go through.

 

“get off.”

 

the words come out so quiet and unimposing that there’s no real threat in them. robert doesn’t comply.

 

“i’m trying to.”

 

“if someone c-comes in…”

 

that’s it. that’s all you have. a stutter and crack. robert laughs into your ear.

 

“isn’t that part of the fun?”

 

“get off me.”

 

robert digs in further and now you’re fairly sure he _is_ hard, at least somewhat. you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. you’ve never felt so conflicted. if only someone would walk in but _please god don’t let anyone walk in_.

“come on. be a slut for me. be the slut we both know you are. you got on your knees so fast that night. didn’t even get to date three without spreading your legs. come on.”

 

you find it. your spark. your little, tiny bit of fight left in you. you’re not sure why it’s the word _date_ and not _slut_ that gets to you, but you grit your teeth and groan from the back of your throat.

 

“they weren’t _dates.”_ you thrust backwards, forcing him off you but only managing to turn around before he’s back, pinning you to the counter again only now his poisonous, bright blue eyes are facing you. your hands reach backwards and grip the table top again as a small smirk dances on your lips. “you only wish someone who looks like me would date someone like you.”

 

“this is why i like you. the reparté.”

 

“that’s too bad, because i have more important things to do than play around h-”

 

he kisses you. it’s not meant to be romantic. it’s not meant to sweep you off your feet. it’s meant to humiliate you. it’s meant to disgust you. you don’t _kiss_ robert. this is his response to your insult. his comeback. a dirty, wet kiss that makes your knees buckle in despair.

        

he pulls back and breathes in heavily, staring you down like he’s he apex predator and you’re so low on the food chain that it’s an honor to be swallowed up by him.

 

“fine,” he shrugs finally. “i’ll come to your place. tonight?”

 

“no.”

 

“why not?”

 

“i’m not horny.”

 

“but i am. i’m horny. for you. only you can satisfy this lust.”

 

“that sucks for you.”

 

“i’m hoping.”

 

you turn your head away and lick your lips. it’s inevitable. plus, you were lying. you’re pretty fucking horny. and there’s no one else to satisfy you, either. not because you want robert so fucking bad but because there is literally no one else. you don’t do grindr. you don’t like anonymous one night stands. the wildest you get is making out with one of kristopher’s friends at his parties and immediately regretting it when riley finds out you did it. you try to walk it back without hurting anyone’s feelings. it’s a mess. you’re a mess.

        

you wanted a clean slate but you’re a mess.

 

“fine. just get off me.”

 

“tonight?”

 

“friday.”

 

“deal.”

 

it is. it is a deal. sex with robert is basically a transaction. you certainly don’t feel much during it, that’s for sure. he finally gets off of you and you leave the break room, well aware that your slacks are well fitted and his eyes are traveling downwards as you go.

 

you spend the rest of the workday keeping your ass planted in your chair. that way no one can look at it. but robert’s little smiles still unnerve you. he throws them across the room, _so knowing. knowing_ that it’ll make you anxious; that you’ll worry other people will see and eventually figure out that you’re getting dicked every other week by someone hardly younger than your own dad.

 

your apartment is too clean that night to distract you. you decide to reorganize your bookcases once again. this time by color. your shelves are a rainbow. gay. just like you.

 

riley doesn’t work on fridays. but his boyfriend does and your work schedule is flexible so you go in late on friday mornings in order to spend thursday nights with your best friend. he comes over and you order pizza and soda. he sits cross legged on your living room floor and eats at the coffee table so as not to drip pizza sauce on your heather grey couch so you join him because being close to him makes you feel. you’re not sure what it is you feel but it definitely makes you feel _something._ maybe you just feel _better_ when he’s around, you feel like everything is _right._ like you can do anything. that may be a cliché but you do think, in those fleeting, never-long-enough moments with riley around, everything could be okay.

 

you like thursday nights.

 

“we’re having a party tomorrow.”

 

“tomorrow?”

 

“yeah.” that’s all riley says as he shoves a breadstick halfway down his throat and you blink away the implication.

 

“i… have plans early but i’ll come after.”

 

“okay.” he smiles lightly and turns his attention to the tv. something you’ve both seen a thousand times is on so it only takes a few moments before he says what you’re dreading: “what plans do you have?”

 

he isn’t being invasive. he’s curious because he thinks it’s a work thing and wants to commiserate. he may want to know if it’s a date but that’s just so he can tease you for ten minutes before wishing you luck and telling you that if they don’t have a good time with you they’re an idiot so you shouldn’t be nervous. you’ll melt and tell him to stop talking. he’ll grin and cover his mouth because he thinks he has food in his teeth.

 

“it’s a work thing.”

 

“on a friday night?”

 

“yeah.”

 

“that sucks.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“what kind of thing is it?”

 

you sigh. he thinks you're sighing out of frustration. you’re sighing out of shame.

 

“just a… thing.”

 

he turns to you with a crooked eyebrow and stares you down. he studies your face for a while before he cracks into a grin.

 

“are you lying?”

 

“no,” you say quickly. “i’m not lying. it’s just. a coworker is coming over for dinner while we finish up a project.”

 

“oh yeah?” his grin fades, but only slightly. “are they hot?”

 

“what?”

 

“is your coworker hot?”

 

“he’s fifty.”

        

“not what i asked.”

 

you purse your lips at him in exasperation. riley is like this. he’s flirty. he wants _you_ to be flirty too, but the only person you really get that flirty with is _him_ when he’s drunk and kristopher isn’t around. he’s interested in hot people, whether it’s him sleeping with them or not. when he started dating kristopher you had to admit it was a good matchup; kristopher is the definition of handsome with his rippling muscles and very dark skin. they look good together too. they look natural. riley is small, around 5’5, and fits perfectly under kristopher’s 6’1 frame. they stand in the corner at parties and riley rests his palm against kristopher’s chest, rests his body against kristopher’s body, rests his head on kristopher’s collarbone and closes his eyes as they sway together. they’re probably the only people that exist to riley in that moment.

 

“he’s fifty,” you repeat. “he’s not ugly, i guess. but he’s fifty.”

 

“invite him to the party.”

 

“no.”

 

“why not?”

 

“i don’t like him that much.”

 

“ah,” riley nods. “why not?”

 

“he’s just… old. old-fashioned.”

 

“oh.”

 

_old-fashioned._ that’s the magic word. that’s a neat little way of saying, _“he might not be cool with a mexican man dating a black man and god forbid he find out you’re trans.”_ riley doesn’t push the subject further.

 

“if you’re sure.”

 

what he’s really saying is, _“i trust that your judgment of this man means he wouldn’t be a fun addition to our party.”_ riley is very welcoming. it’s been a problem at times. he invites people to party with him before really getting to know them and it’s made for some awkward nights. good stories, though.

 

“i’ll be over around 10.”

 

“okay,” riley says, going back to his pizza happily. “we probably won’t get really started until midnight.”

 

“then i’ll stand there awkwardly and stare at you and kristopher being domestic.”

 

“being domestic,” he mocks with a shake of his head. it makes you smile.

 

“yeah, like, i’ll watch you vacuum before a party while he does the dishes.”

 

“ _so_ domestic.”

 

you know he kind of hates that. he’s told you before- while drunk- that he’s worried dating the same person for 4 years makes him boring. being domestic makes it worse. you suppose it’s not very cool of you to re-enforce it but sometimes you can’t help it. it’s not like he’d be any happier doing the laundry with _you._

 

“are you spending the night tonight?” you ask. it’s far more innocuous than it sounds. riley is basically nocturnal and keeps kristopher up on thursday nights so he actually _prefers_ his boyfriend to stay with you. but riley hasn’t been doing it much lately, and tonight doesn’t seem like an exception.

 

“i think i’m gonna go home tonight.”

 

“so no alcohol?”

 

“i never said that.”

 

riley is nocturnal and also straddles the line of alcoholism.

 

you split a bottle of amaretto - a small one - and he goes home a little tipsy - by train, of course - where you’re pretty sure he’ll wake kristopher up and then suck him off to apologize for it.

 

you can’t decide which realization was worse: that riley was in love with someone else or that riley was in bed with someone else. they both sting but when it really comes down to it, it’s the love that gets you. the physical stuff is just noise.

 

not that the physical stuff doesn’t mean a lot to you. you love the physical stuff. and you know it’s wrong, but sometimes you catch yourself wondering what riley’s mouth would feel like around your cock. you’ve known him for ten years and from what you’ve heard, he’s apparently quite talented with his tongue. and he’s pretty open about how often he uses it.

 

that’s what’s on your mind when robert’s dick is in your mouth the next day. what would riley do? how does he work his lips and tongue to make this a magical experience? you just move your head up and down and hope robert interrupts you soon. but he lets you keep going at a torturously leisurely pace- for you, not him- while entwining his fingers with your hair. you think he pulls some out because you see some light strands against his black jeans when you pull off to catch your breath. you only notice because you can’t meet his eyes. you can’t bear to look at him.

 

“tell me something, kiran.”

 

you don’t make eye contact but your heavy breathing does imply vulnerability. you raise an eyebrow to indicate responsiveness and keep breathing.

 

“do you sleep with me to prove something?”

 

you weren’t expecting that. you don’t know what you _were_ expecting, but that’s inexplicable. you don’t understand whatsoever.

 

“i’m… no? what does that mean?”

 

“do you have daddy issues, kiran?”

 

“no,” you say immediately. confidently. you may toe the line of twink, but you aren’t one and you especially aren’t one with daddy issues. you’re not _that_ cliché. “my dad and i get along fine. always have.”

 

“so mommy issues then.”

 

it’s such a simple phrase. at least, it spills out of robert’s mouth easily enough. it rocks you out of your skin, sending a cold chill of realization through your entire body. you’re not a cliché. you’re pretty unique, actually. you’re an almost-twink with mommy issues and it took a 50 year old man calling you out to realize it.

 

“i- no-”

 

“why do you say yes to me?”

 

you want to point out that sometimes you say no and he persists. but that would make this unhealthy and it might not be typical, but you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought that this situation is actually quite fucked up. so you stumble over your words for a bit while robert’s smile widens. his cock is still in front of you, hard as ever.

 

“are you proving something to me, kiran?” you wish he’d stop saying your name. “or are you proving something to yourself?”

 

“i still don’t-”

 

“mommy didn’t love you so maybe you can find that love somewhere else.”

 

“if that were true, i would’ve found it in my dad. i told you. i have a good relationship with him.”

 

“doesn’t really make up for the fact that mom didn’t care about you.”

 

“make up whatever fantasy you have to to stay hard,” you sneer. “just let me know what the fuck is going on so i can play along with it.”

 

“usually you only get snarky when someone’s really struck a nerve.”

 

god, you’d love to slap his dick right now. you almost do. you almost fucking do it. but you bite down hard on your bottom lip instead and shake your head.

 

“so what are _you_ trying to prove?”

 

“that a young twink will still sleep with me, even at 47 years old.”

 

you cringe.

 

“well congratulations,” you tell him. “you’ve done it. will you shut up now so i can get you off and you can leave? and i’m not a twink.”

 

“you’re a twink.”

 

“shut up.” you put your mouth on him again and suck in earnest this time, managing to get him to actually shut his mouth. you get up on your knees and hold him down by the thighs. you move your mouth up and down his shaft, wetting it as much as you can before taking your mouth off, holding it in one hand, and licking a stripe up it and then engulfing the head with a warm, wet heat that makes him groan. you hum around his cock so that his hips shake and legs tremble. you claw into his skin to keep him still. you’re livid when he says he’s close and you don’t know why. how dare he? how dare he get off to a blowjob that’s meant for someone else?

 

you suck your heart out and swallow everything in one breath, proving to both of you that you have something to prove.

 

you’re empty when he finally leaves. you’re not shocked to find out you have mommy issues. you’re just shocked it was robert who made it clear. but you’re not sure you’re trying to prove anything to her. you’re not sure you care.

 

“here’s the life of the party.”

 

kristopher doesn’t really like you. but that’s okay because you don’t exactly like him either. there’s the obvious reason. but you also dislike him because he’s a social playboy- a butterfly to your wallflower. he can flit from plant to plant but you never feel completely able to leave your confines. and the day he flitted to riley, your heart sank. you knew it was over for you when riley smiled at him. it was a smile he has that he used to only give you. a smile that said, _okay buddy, tell me more._ only kristopher was already telling him how beautiful he was. you never had the guts.

 

he’s being sarcastic. riley doesn’t pick up on it. he just smiles at you from under kristopher’s massive arm and waves you over.

 

“how’d your work thing go?”

 

_we ate badly cooked cod and i sucked him off while he patronized me about my mom._

 

“fine.”

 

“you want a drink?”

 

kristopher smiles at you knowingly. you don’t always drink. you haven’t been drunk in a while.

 

tonight, you get drunk.

 

riley does three shots with you in twenty minutes and then kristopher makes you the strongest jack and coke you’ve ever had. you ask how much is actually soda and kristopher just winks at you. he makes you a second one and by then you’re tipsy enough not to care - you can hardly taste anything at all at that point. it’s only eleven and people don’t really show up until midnight. riley and kristopher live in the only house on the street- the rest are apartments for the older college kids, so their parties tend to go unnoticed. sometimes you feel like you never really left college. sometime you feel like that’s not something to brag about.

 

rooms are spinning and you feel warm in the cheeks; you’re so pale that you can feel when you’re flushed and you know that right now, your face is so pink that you’re lucky if you get through the night without someone commenting on it- but not riley. riley won’t mention it because he knows it makes you insecure. and he likes you drunk because you become a lot more sociable when you’re drunk. that’s not always a good thing.

 

“i said i hate my name,” you shout over the noise. riley laughs at you with a frown.

 

“what?”

 

“i _said-”_

 

“no, i heard you that time. i’m just saying that’s a weird thing to focus on right now.”

 

“what else should i focus on?”

 

“me.”

 

you’re drunk, but you know when riley’s done something to take your breath away.

 

“w-what do you want me to focus on exactly?”

 

you’re standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by dancing drunks. but you’re not touching riley, you’re just swaying like a moron while riley grinds against whoever ends up behind him. when you ask the question, riley pauses, then smiles deviously and you know you’re caught in the web.

 

“tell me i’m pretty.”

 

“you are pretty.”

 

“do you mean that?”

 

“i mean that,” you nod.

 

“you’re really pretty, too.”

 

“shut up.”

 

“just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

 

“doesn’t kristopher tell you you’re pretty?” you ask suddenly, causing riley to stiffen a bit. you get a little bold when you’ve been drinking. a little wild.

 

“sure.”

 

“so why do you have to ask me?”

 

“because kristopher _has_ to think i’m pretty. he’s _supposed_ to. i want to know if i still actually am. or if i’ve gotten less pretty over the last 4 years.”

 

4 years. exactly how long he’s dated kristopher. and the worst part is he’s only gotten prettier.

 

“you haven’t.”

 

riley regards you carefully for a few moments, then pushes away from the guy grinding on him and grabs your hands instead. he pulls you close and puts your arm over his shoulders, allowing your foreheads to touch while he grips your elbows, forcing you to dance with him. he does this a lot, but that doesn’t mean your heart beats any slower than it did the first time he touched you.

 

“okay,” he says softly. “then dance with me.”

 

you dance with him. you dance until you think you may throw up and kristopher pushes a water bottle into your hands. riley is already lamenting his hangover in the morning and begging you to stay the night. you brought a bag of stuff just in case, like you always do, not that you don’t actually have a toothbrush and some clothes here already. you’re over so much that it just makes sense; your stuff was here before kristopher’s and that’s something you cling to.

 

unfortunately, the dancing only lasts until you start crying.

 

riley pulls you away from the living room and outside into the brisk night air. a wave of sickness rushes through you immediately but you don’t throw up. not yet.

 

“kiran, what’s wrong? why are you crying?”

 

riley knows you. he knows you better than anyone. he’s been your friend for so long that he understands you better than you understand yourself.

 

“why doesn’t she love me.”

 

it’s not a question. it’s a statement, and riley knows that. he opens his mouth but instead of speaking, he just throws his arms around you and allows you to sob into his shoulder. he kisses you on the temple a few times and you grab the chest of his shirt in your fist, twisting it as you heave.

 

you do have a hangover the next morning but manage to keep the vomit down. kristopher is infallible; you’ve seen him drunk but never hungover. he’s making breakfast for the three of you and you can’t fucking believe how cute riley looks when he shuffles out of his bedroom and sits down at the table grumpily.

 

“you okay?”

 

“feel terrible.”

 

“we drank a lot.”

 

“you’re not in college anymore, babe,” kristopher calls from the stove with a laugh. you seethe quietly as riley grunts.

 

“i just wanna throw up.”

 

“why?” you ask. riley yawns.

 

“just… get it over with. start over. clean slate, you know?”

 

you almost double over. you suddenly remember crying into riley’s shirt. it’s so embarrassing that you hope riley has forgotten, too.

 

“yeah,” you say. “clean slate. i know exactly what you mean.”

 

 


	2. the long weekend, day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley decided it would be a good idea to invite your single ass on a long weekend to Kristopher's lake house but all you want to do is walk into the lake and drown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: sexual themes and referenced child abuse

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=1zwyu5t)

“we’re thinking about going on a long weekend.”

you perk up. not because you’re interested, but because you’re incensed. riley and kristopher, out on a long weekend. four days of pretending they’re doing something productive when really they’re just sitting in a hotel room fucking and eating. and probably fucking while eating. somehow riley would find a way to make that cute.

“to the lake house.”

you don’t know how to respond.

“cool.”

“you don’t wanna come?”

now you actually perk up.

“you want me to come with you on a long weekend to the lake house?”

kristopher sort of smirks and then tries to hide it; he likes it when you’re taken off guard. you wonder how long you can both put up a charade of enjoying each other’s company. it’s not that you hate kristopher by any means - and if riley’s chosen to spend his life with him then you want to get along. he’s just not someone you would’ve chosen to spend your life with. and you know he feels the same way about you.

“well,” riley says, picking up a carrot from his plate and shoving it into his mouth. he’s making an effort to eat healthier he says, so his lunch this saturday consisted of carrots and an exorbitant amount of ranch dressing. “we thought we’d invite chantal and josie, too. but then we realized it’d be all couples except for you. so if you don’t wanna go, that’s okay. or if you wanna bring someone, you could do that.”

there’s a lot to unpack there, but for some reason your mouth says, “i don’t know anyone to bring.” kristopher tries to stifle a laugh.

“what if we invited a friend - or what about noah? you two got along really well.”

“noah gets along with everyone really well,” you scoff. noah is riley’s friend from high school and he’s exactly like kristopher only a lot more likable. maybe that’s just because he isn’t dating riley. “and i think he’s a little adventurous for me.”

“yeah,” riley frowns. “he was always like that, even in high school.” you feel like there’s something on riley’s mind after that statement because he pauses and stares at the table like he’s remembering something important. but then he continues, “then we’ll invite someone else.”

“can’t i just be a fifth wheel?”

“sure,” he shrugs. “if that’s okay.”

“i don’t want to be stuck with someone i don’t know all weekend.” riley seems to sympathize. he nods at you with a small crook of his lips. “but i guess i also don’t want to feel like a burden.”

“you’re not a burden.”

kristopher says it so immediately that riley didn’t even have a chance to respond. you both look over at him, yourself a lot more surprised than riley. kristopher isn’t a terrible person. he certainly isn’t mean to you. but you weren’t really expecting him to comfort you.

“you’re not,” riley insists. “we’ll have a good time.”

“what weekend are you going?”

“labor day weekend,” he says. “so in a couple weeks.”

“alright,” you shrug. “i guess so, then.”

you guess so, then. as if you’d ever pass up a chance to see riley in his bodysuit. he wears one long swimsuit that flattens his chest but also hugs his frame so tight that you can see everything if you’re looking. he says he can’t wait to get top surgery so he can wear trunks instead but you actually prefer the bodysuit. you know it isn’t about you. but you prefer the bodysuit.

kristopher’s parents own a lake house about an hour and a half away. it’s in a secluded forest but there’s at least cell reception and a grocery store about ten minutes up the road. as far as other people go, however, there’s not much. the houses are purposefully built far apart from each other, so you make it a general rule never to go outside after dark, especially alone. it’s a horror movie house if you ever saw one. but something about it is really calming, too. you don’t mind it. you especially don’t mind spending time with riley, at least.

for some reason, however, you bring it up to the person you like spending time with least. to be fair, you only say it because robert wants to see you that weekend and won’t take no for an answer. you tell him - you’re going on a bit of a vacation with some friends that weekend and you won’t be around. of course, he latches on.

“what friends?”

you look at him dumbly.

“what do you mean ‘what friends?’” you ask. you grab the hand that’s pawing at the hem of your shirt and push it away. “i told you, i’m not fucking you at work. not in the break room, least of all.”

“so there’s a place you’d be willing to do it most of all?”

“no,” you groan, pushing his hand away again. “stop touching me. someone might walk in.”

“are you ashamed of the idea that someone could find out we sleep together?”

“yes.”

robert blinks.

“well, that was blunt.”

“i said get off me.”

robert finally acquiesces and pulls away, seemingly irritated with a genuineness that makes your heart soar. maybe he’ll leave you alone. or maybe he’ll get up your ass even further. you can never tell with him.

“you say you’re ashamed but you do it anyway,” he says, meeting your gaze in the break room. you’re all alone but you know someone’s about to walk in. any minute now. it’s lunchtime and the only working microwave is in here. “that says a lot about you, you know.”

“i bet.” you do your best to sound flippant, and for the most part you are. you know exactly what pop psychology bullshit robert would throw at you if you asked what it said about you, but you still kind of want to know. just to be sure. just to be sure you know him as well as you think you do.

“only someone who really hates themselves would continue to do something that makes them feel ashamed.” he circles around you and you’re rooted to your spot. you didn’t ask him to keep talking, but he did of his own volition. this is actually fine. now you get to hear what he has to say without giving him the satisfaction of asking. “but you don’t hate yourself, do you kiran?” you don’t answer him. you actually keep eye contact with him strongly. fiercely. “you actually seem to love yourself a lot. you act like a shy little boy but i know you’re not. you have no problem taking off your clothes at the drop of a hat. you have no problem getting hard for a fifty-year-old man you profess to dislike.”

“i never said i dislike you.”

“you certainly act it.”

“then why do you keep pursuing me?”

“because i have to, kiran,” he says, throwing his hand to his heart and clutching at his shirt earnestly. “why don’t you understand that? i have to have you. no one else is as good as you.”

a heat rises up in your cheeks and you pray your face hasn’t gone red. you’re glaring at him now from under your bangs, daring him to continue speaking. but the thing is - you really, really want him to. you want to hear exactly how badly he wants you. you want to know. you want to know someone out there wants you this bad. you want to know so you can have it in your pocket for a rainy day. for when the time comes to let someone know. to inform someone important that you have other options. that other people really want you. so they better decide. do they want you or kristopher?

“unfortunately, that’s true,” you say quietly, holding your glare. “i’m the best you’ll ever do in your entire life. so really, i hold all the cards in this relationship, don’t i?”

“do you, kiran?”

you don’t know why such a simple phrase rocks you so hard. you know he probably said it because he was at a loss; he had nothing constructive to answer you with so he just blurted out a defense. but for some reason, it shocks you to your core.

do you? do you, kiran? 

you know that shouting, “yes! yes god damnit, i have the power here!” just proves the opposite. so instead, your body moves for you, taking you to the door and out to the office, like a petulant child, running away from a fight he knows he can’t win. 

you think about it the rest of the day. do you, kiran? do you really have any say in this relationship? he ignores your rejections and somehow gets you to say yes every time. he manages to finagle consent from you and the worst part is that you kind of want to consent at the start anyway. you’re just trying to save face when you say no, but secretly - you like that he forces himself on you.

you want him to do it.

do you have any sense of self-preservation? do you have any love for yourself that isn’t tied up in validation through sex? do you have self-loathing simmering under the surface, begging to be released like steam through a kettle? do you have mommy issues?

do you, kiran?

the week and a half before labor day pass quietly - for the most part. robert doesn’t bother you again but riley and kristopher end up spending the night at your place one night and they’re not exactly quiet. they stay in your second bedroom - your home office, where all your stuff is - and riley can’t keep his voice down when kristopher goes down on him so you lie awake, your eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling and pretending it’s you that makes riley cry and gasp and moan like that. 

riley comes out the next morning with all the bedding in his tiny arms, heading to your washing machine without a word. his face is a little red and he doesn’t meet your eyes, so you know he’s embarrassed, but at least he’s cleaning up after himself. what a good friend.

“sorry,” he whispers as he pads back to the bedroom. you shrug and sip your coffee quietly, listening for any conversation between him and kristopher. there is none, however, and they both come out again a few minutes later and say goodbye, thanks for letting us stay the night, we’ll see you in a couple days when we leave for the lake house. you nod at them and watch them go, riley giggling slightly when kristopher puts an arm around him at the front door to lead him out. 

he doesn’t know what it does to you so he can’t stop. and he can’t know. he can never find out how in love you are. it would ruin everything.

so you stand on the sidelines as he and kristopher get annoyed with each other while packing the car on thursday evening. you have all your stuff in one bag, but kristopher is a primadonna and riley can’t imagine being caught looking unattractive, so they have a lot more than you and can’t get it all into the car. riley says this is why he wanted to pack last night and kristopher says they couldn’t have because his stuff can’t stay in the heat overnight and riley puts a finger up to silence him and walks away shaking his head. when you finally get in the car and start on your way, they’re completely quiet. they don’t even talk to you. it makes you laugh.

“what?”

riley looks at you through the mirror. you close your eyes and shake your head.

“nothing.”

“what?” he repeats. he’s already in a bad mood and the irritation in his voice is so apparent that you realize you have to come up with something. but you can’t. so you just say it:

“are you two gonna break up?”

kristopher throws you a glare through the rearview mirror for a second, while riley keeps staring for a moment before cracking into a grin. he finds it amusing whereas kristopher says he has to focus on the road and not your stupid jokes.

“i’m not joking, i really wanna make sure you aren’t getting divorced,” you say. riley snorts again. “who do i live with if you two break up?”

riley laughs softly but you spend the rest of the ride in silence. 

the driveway is long and when you finally pull all the way up to the house nestled between two thick sets of forest, there are two girls sitting on the hood of their car in front of the house. it’s chantal and josie, a couple that kristopher has known his whole life but you and riley only met a few years ago. still, you’re pretty close to them and are decently excited to spend the weekend together other than remembering at every turn that you’re single.

and being single isn’t what bothers you. you don’t really mind not being attached to someone. you mind not being attached to a certain someone. this is why you don’t have a boyfriend. it wouldn’t be fair to him. then again, a boyfriend might be exactly what you need to get over riley once and for all… though you highly doubt it. 

you’ve had feelings for riley for as long as you can remember even though you know they most likely started when you were around twelve. you were next-door-neighbors and that’s how you ended up so close even though riley is older than you by a few years, and also why you ended up head over heels for him so easily. he was accessible. it was because he was the boy next door - literally. he was so close all the time. and you could see into each other’s bedroom windows, so you both bought dry erase boards and wrote to each other - little conversations when one of you were bored or upset but couldn’t leave the room. this was before cell phones. or at least, before either of you had one, anyway.

“how’s it going?”

josie always has this little smile that makes it seem like she’s up to something. you frown at her and shrug.

“fine. why are you always looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

you sling your backpack over your shoulder and watch as kristopher and riley begin to unload their several thousand bags. riley nestles his messenger bag over his chest and you know it’s bizarre but there’s something about the way the strap lays so snugly against his chest that makes your heart race. you’ve seen him shirtless a handful of times. he tries to act like it’s no big deal that he hasn’t had top surgery yet but he won’t show his chest to anyone else but you and kristopher so you know it’s still constantly on his mind. you never stare. you look him in the eyes - well, you mostly look at the floor, but you always do that when talking to riley. his eyes are too bright to look at.

“you always look at me like you have some big plan i don’t know about.”

“dude, my only plan is to get fucking wasted this weekend. i don’t even want to remember it.”

“that’s healthy,” you say as you trudge toward the front door. riley gave you the key and you stick it in the lock and turn it, jiggling it to the left a little as you do. that’s what kristopher said to do. it clicks and you open the door easily, immediately smelling that strong scent of cedar and bug spray that’s always here. you’ve only been here about six times, but it’s enough to know the smell. kristopher says it’s the wood and also that his mother is batty about keeping bugs away.

“does she know spraying it inside the house like lysol doesn’t do anything?” you ask him later that night. he actually laughs.

“no,” he says simply. “she doesn’t.”

chantal hands you a beer but riley takes it from you before you can put your lips to it. she frowns at him and riley grins.

“kiran and i are splitting some liquor tonight.”

“we are?” you didn’t sign up for liquor on the first night but what riley wants, riley gets. he holds up a small bottle of amaretto - exactly like the one you split a few weeks prior - and his grin widens.

“oh yeah.”

you end up on the floor, staring at the spinning ceiling as chantal and josie chastise riley for being such a flirt. they call him a tease and a scamp and the few times you’ve been able to see kristopher, he’s tightened his grip on his boyfriend and stared daggers at the two girls giving him hell. but riley doesn’t think it’s hell.

riley loves it.

“i’m just friendly.”

“no, you’re a tease.”

“i like to make friends,” riley shrugs. “it’s not my fault if they get the wrong idea.”

“they don’t get the wrong idea, you force the wrong idea on them.”

“are you really trying to criticize me right now?” he asks, irritation creeping into his drunk voice. they say no but riley continues: “it sounds like you are. it sounds like you have a real problem with me.”

“i’m just giving you a hard time,” josie insists. “you’re a flirty boy. i’m just pointing it out.”

“well, you pointed it out,” he says. “now stop pointing it out.”

“just because people like riley doesn’t mean he’s done anything to warrant it,” you say suddenly. “which is both an insult and a compliment. how come you don’t get kristopher a hard time? he’s mr. handsome with the tattoos and cool haircut and all the girls get wet around him but no one says he should stop being a hopeless romantic.”

no one responds. you take a deep breath and continue to stare at the ceiling. did you just say something stupid? no. no, you’re pretty sure what you just said was an amazing point and no one can take that away from you. even if you said awkwardly.

“that’s a really good point,” riley says finally. “kris is hit on way more than i am and he always flirts back. why doesn’t he get any shit?”

“you want us to give kris shit, too? we’ll do it.” chantal is nothing if not fair. “kristopher, you need to stop making girls think they have a shot at you. it’s like riley’s torturing the boys and kristopher’s torturing the girls. together you two are somethin’ else.”

torturing the boys. he’s only really torturing one boy and that boy is about to throw up.

that’s when your phone rings.

you sit up dizzily and close your eyes as you fumble to get your phone from your pocket. they’re still discussing this completely pointless matter as you check the i.d. to find it’s your dad. you curse under your breath but figure you should probably answer. probably. you don’t know. but probably.

you do your best to stand and leave the room but you only get to the hallway before you have to sit back down and answer the phone because it’s about to go to voicemail.

“hello?”

“hey, bud.”

“hey, dad.”

you find a wall not covered in knick-knacks and framed shoebox lids - a question you’ve never wanted the answer to - and lay your back flush against it and then sink down onto your ankles. you look at the floor and will it to stop spinning sometime soon.

“what are you up to?”

“i’m - at the lake house with riley and some people.”

“oh,” he says. “then i’ll hang up.”

“no, it’s okay. we’re just sitting there drinking anyway.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah.”

“are you drunk?”

“a little.”

“i’ll call you back.”

“no-”

your dad can be infuriating. he can be frustrating and tiring and trying. he can get on your last nerve and really act like the child in the relationship.

but he’s your dad. he comforts you. simply hearing his voice makes you calm - sort of like riley, only it’s a different kind of calm. riley makes you feel like everything will be alright. your dad makes you feel like nothing is wrong in the first place.

you want to talk to him and you’re not that drunk. but he doesn’t like alcohol so he doesn’t approve of you drinking in the first place. of course, you’re twenty-three now, so he can’t exactly stop you, but you do feel that little pit of shame in your stomach when he casts that disapproving look over you.

“well, i don’t want to take up your time.”

“we’re really not talking about anything important. we just got here so everyone’s going to sleep soon anyway. did you need something?”

“no, i just called to talk.”

you don’t bring up that it is a friday night - around eight p.m. - so he picked a kind of weird time to call just to talk. 

“i can talk.”

“i just wanted to see what you were up to this weekend, but i guess it’s the lake house.”

“did you want to do something?”

“nope,” he says genuinely. “i have plans with some of the guys in my bridge club.”

“why are you so old?”

“age is just a number when it comes to cards, kiran. plus, they’re all so much older than i am that they ask me why i’m so young. i tell them i found the fountain of youth.”

“where?”

“my own ass.”

you laugh, one sharp, staccato laugh that rings out in the hallway and echoes against the walls. your mom was always really uptight but your dad was more laidback than anyone else you’ve ever met. which is odd, because he has a lot of nervous energy and is prone to panic attacks, too. he wants to be lackadaisical, if only life would let him.

“that’s smart because that’s somewhere they’re not going to want to go.” 

“exactly. hey…”

you know he’s about to ask about your mom. you know it. you feel it in your bones.

“i haven’t spoken to her.”

“i know,” he says, confirming your suspicions. “but i have.”

you perk up. that means she deigned to give him her time and energy and he had the capacity to do the same back. that doesn’t happen often. they don’t align easily and they never have. so you’re a little surprised that he said he had nothing to talk about. he clearly has something.

“oh.”

“i just wanted you to know she misses you.”

your heart races and then jumps into your throat. you don’t want to have this conversation while inebriated. you don’t really get too touchy with your dad, but with this amount of amaretto in you, hearing about your mom is going to set you on end.

“then she can tell me that herself,” you say after a long while of formulating your words. you can tell he’s shaking his head.

“she doesn’t feel she can.”

“she can’t,” you shrug. “because she burned the bridge and i don’t feel like building it back up again.”

a lie. a total lie. you want nothing more than to have your mom back. but your mother hit you - a lot - especially when you came out to her. she ignored you the other half of the time and your dad didn’t know how to stop it. you used to resent him for it but then you realized it’s your mom’s fault. she shouldn’t have raised a hand to you in the first place. she should have cared more. this is some performative kind of worry that she’s doing now. she misses you so that she doesn’t seem as callous as she really is.

you know all this. so to admit you want her back would make you -

“do you want me to say anything to her for you?”

you frown immediately.

“you’re going to speak to her again?”

“if i have something to tell her from you, i can and i will.”

“so you’re just calling me to try to get me to reach out to her so you can talk to her again.”

“no, kiran, i-”

“that’s really selfish of you. it’s my choice to talk to her again, if she ever deserves that, and just because you want her back doesn’t mean i have to help you.”

“hey, now-”

“she cheated on you.”

“kiran.”

“but she did. and she used to hit me. how can you expect me to want her back?”

he doesn’t answer and you thank christ because god do you want your mommy back.

“i think i’ll call you back when you’re not drunk.”

he says it so carefully and you scoff from the back of your throat. you want to keep talking but don’t know how to tell him that, so you just shake your head and mutter, “fine.”

“i’ll call you next week.”

“alright.”

“okay. goodbye, kiran.”

“bye.”

you hang up and sneer at the floor. you sink onto your ass and sit there, your legs bent at the knees in front of you and your arms draping off them. your head is swimming too much to really think about what just happened. you look up with a deep breath and see a family photo on the wall. kristopher must be around eighteen in it. even in the family portrait he has that kind of all-knowing, smirky grin that makes you want to slap him in the face. 

you stand up, balance yourself, and head back to the living room shakily. when you get back, only kristopher sits on the couch. he’s staring at the coffee table blankly, holding a beer between his legs. he’s drunk. so are you.

you sit down next to him. 

“where is everyone?”

“making alcoholic slushies.”

you scoff.

“was that riley’s idea?”

“sure was.” 

you’re both gazing into space, heads tilting back and forth a bit as you try to rectify the balance that the alcohol has compromised. you’re sleepy. fighting with your dad takes a lot of energy and being here with four other people - two couples, no less - drains it even faster. not to mention kristopher, who you think is too busy in his own drunken head to recognize that you’re really there, so you don’t expect him to speak:

“you know what the best thing about my life is?” he asks. his eyes don’t move but he seems to be sincerely asking. he wants you to guess. you have an idea, but you doubt it’s what he’s thinking.

“getting all the girlies moist?”

“riley.”

oh.

so it was what he was thinking.

you stiffen a bit without meaning to and don’t answer. you don’t know exactly what he means, anyway. he sort of spits his name out as if he’s angry about something; angry about riley. and you suppose if riley was the best part of your life - and he is - but he flirted with other people so much that his friends had to scold him for it, you’d be pretty angry, too. you want riley all to yourself so you kind of understand.

“and you know what?”

he turns to you and you don’t meet his eyes right away. you look at the floor until it stops spinning and then you turn to him, too.

“what?”

“i get to fuck him every night.”

your body goes cold. you glare at kristopher with unyielding fury. he hasn’t really done anything wrong other than crush your entire world.

“i don’t need to hear about that.”

“and i’m not going to tell you about it,” he says. “but i’m just putting it out there. he has this way of gasping when he comes that’s just - so good.”

“that’s the opposite of not telling me about it.”

“i lied.”

“i still don’t want to hear about it.”

“really?”

your eyes dart away and then back to him instantaneously. you suddenly fear for your life.

your most well-guarded secret. does kristopher know it? does kristopher pick up on it? does he realize how badly you want your best friend?

“what’s that mean?” you ask, hoping you sound angry but aware that it’s mostly coming out frightened. kristopher smiles and then turns back to the coffee table.

“kiran.”

“what?”

“do you want riley?”

you know you have to answer right away. you have to sound incredulous, maybe even a little disgusted. but you don’t know how to lie very well and there are two things you’re not right now: incredulous or disgusted.

“no,” you say emphatically. “do i want riley? what’s that even mean?”

“do you want riley the way i have riley?”

“no.”

“okay,” he says before turning to you once again. this time he makes it impossible not to stare him down; meet his eyes directly and let him swallow you whole. “then do you want me?”

“what?!”

there. that’s the tone you wish you could’ve worked up about riley. 

“are you a top?”

“why are you asking that?”

“so you’re a bottom.”

“i’m a switch.”

kristopher smiles.

“that makes sense. so do you wanna be in the middle? i’ll fuck you while you fuck my boyfriend?”

“what has gotten into you?” you ask, standing up to stop all of this nonsense. “i don’t want any of that. jesus, first my dad, now you? this weekend sucks.”

you leave the room, but not before kristopher laughs at you so darkly that you get chills. you like to feel powerful, like you left because you were in charge of ending the conversation, but you both know that really, you were terrified. terrified that he might know the truth. you have to avoid him the rest of the weekend. in fact, for the rest of your life would be great. if you could go the rest of your life without being left alone with kristopher williams again, that would be great.

you never considered that kristopher might see right through you. you don’t exactly consider him stupid, but you don’t think he’s all that smart, either. he’s not perceptive, is the word you’d use. and even if he was, he isn’t threatened. does kristopher really consider you to be in love with riley and not worry that you’ll try to steal him away? you imagine it’s a lot less that he thinks you won’t try and a lot more that he thinks riley wouldn’t say yes.

that might be the biggest insult of your life. your entire goddamn life. kristopher is a fucking monster.

mostly for putting the image into your head.

your first thought is to go into the kitchen. find riley. find the lesbians. try to shake kirstopher’s bizarre behavior out of your mind. but you realize that that won’t help. in fact, riley will possibly make things worse right now. he’s more than a little buzzed and if he flirts with you right now then you’re a dead man. so instead you turn towards the stairs and trudge up them to the room you laid your backpack down in hours ago. you shut the door. you’re finally fucking alone. just as it should be.

you sigh deeply as you lock the door and then grab a chair from the table next to the bed and shove it under the doorknob. you don’t know why you’re feeling so private right now but it’s probably because you know yourself. you know yourself pretty fucking well. and kristopher put an image in your head that you can’t get away from. you can’t get it out. you’ll obsess over it until you do something about it. and you hardly even get to the bed before you’re on your hands and knees clutching the sheets, unzipping your jeans as quickly as possible and taking your dick out. you stroke it to full hardness, thinking about being between those two men. riley and kristopher on either side of you, sandwiching you, smothering you.

you imagine how good it would feel inside riley. you wonder how warm he is and if he feels as tight as you imagine. you grip yourself tight at the thought and close your eyes, pretending you have riley’s waist to grab as you force yourself in and out of your own hand, slamming your hips back and forth and gaining momentum until you realize if you come, you’re going to do it all over the sheets in kristopher’s parents’ lake house. you sigh to yourself and stumble to the floor instead to finish. it’s easier to clean off hardwood, and you still have hard wood when there’s a knock on the door. 

“did you lock this?”

riley is on the other side and you’re still panting as you marvel at your own cum. you can’t believe you managed to orgasm while this drunk, especially so fast and having started without a boner. but the thought that kristopher might actually let you fuck his boyfriend just did that to you. it did everything to you.

“yeah. hang on.”

“why’d you lock it? are you jacking off?”

you grab a tissue from the bedside table and start to wipe up your mess. you bobble your head from side to side and shrug.

“yeah. hang on.”

“oh.”

riley is silent as you continue cleaning. once the room doesn’t look like a frenzied, masturbatory mess, you move the chair from the doorknob and unlock the latch. you open the door and stare at your best friend, ruddy-cheeked and heavy-lidded, as he leans against the doorframe.

“were you really jacking off?”

“yeah,” you nod. “i thought everyone was distracted downstairs.”

“you thought about me, right?”

“of course,” you grin. “as always.”

you like to call yourself the minister. you learned everything you know from the purloined letter.

“kristopher said you didn’t look well when you came back,” he says, swaying from side to side. he’s clearly trying to be a good friend but is far too drunk for it. you smile at him.

“nope, i’m fine. i was just talking to my dad.”

“oh.”

“he brought up my mom.”

“oh.”

“so i was a little tired after that and just… wanted to jack off and go to bed.”

“okay,” riley shrugs. “i’ll leave you to it then. see you in the morning?”

“yeah.”

you say goodnight to your best friend and close the door again. you don’t lock it this time. you don’t need to. in fact, you kind of hope kristopher comes in with a huge knife in the middle of the night and puts you out of your misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this was not beta read or proofed at all yet. You can let me know if there are any typos or confusing parts. Kiran borders on pathetic but he manages to pull himself back into grace at the last second.


	3. the long weekend, day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part of you thinks it might be okay to ruin your relationship with riley for the chance to fuck him - once, just once. just once you’d like to restrain him face-down on the mattress and come inside of him. to mark him. to make him yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw sexual content, conversations surrounding illness, weird indentation issues e.e

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=9gdpxz)

there it is. that swimsuit. the one that tortures you so much.

riley is short but he’s all leg. he’s around 5’5 and not exactly in shape. his body doesn’t exactly show off just how poorly he treats it, which you consider him lucky for because he really treats it like shit. he drinks constantly, smokes on occasion, and never eats well. you try to get him to run with you but he never does. he says he’ll get a stitch and slow you down but you insist that you don’t mind, you want him in shape so he lives a long, healthy life, to which he responds, “i’m here for a good time not a long time,” and you throw up your arms in exasperation and tell him to go back to his ice cream for dinner. you don’t know how his front is so flat - other than the compression on top - but he’s like a straight line until his hips flare out and ass juts with them. those hips have reduced greatly since he started t and now he just has a big ass, but that almost makes it worse. how does his body look that way? he treats it like shit.

and before kristopher, he wasn’t exactly the kindest to his body when it came to sex, either. after every std scare - and the single pregnancy one - he swore he’d be better; he’d use protection and stop hooking up with people he didn’t know. but he always went back on it instantly, and you hated watching it for a plethora of reasons. not least of all that some deep, dark part of you wouldn’t mind if it were you giving him an std scare, not that you have any to give him. but that part of you thinks it might be okay to ruin your relationship with him for the chance to fuck him - once, just once. just once you’d like to restrain him face-down on the mattress and come inside of him. to mark him. to make him yours.

you wonder if kristopher ever comes inside him. you wonder if they do it without a condom yet. they decided to keep using one at first because riley had a penchant for flirting and so did kristopher. but it was riley who was most likely to cheat and kristopher says that knowing that going into the relationship made it easy. simple, even. it meant absolutely nothing to him when the time came that riley confessed he had actually cheated - just the once - because he knew that for riley, it was just physical. it meant nothing to riley. so it meant nothing to him.

you can kind of grasp that logic. riley doesn’t use sex to be close to people. you used to judge him for that. but now robert’s changed your mind.

all of this is moot, though. it’s not going to happen and it’s pretty horrendous of you to think about riley like that in the first place. you do feel shameful with yourself when you allow the darker thoughts in. it’s not like you want them there. but you don’t like thinking about riley negatively - or sexually.

he makes the latter a lot harder than the former when he wears that swimsuit, though.

“leeches are a myth.”

“i’m not worried about leeches,” kristopher says. “i’m worried about those brain eating amoebas.”

“yeah, that’s true,” chantal points out. “that one girl who died after swimming in the lake?”

“that girl swam in like, wildlife. this is a manmade lake.” riley is really doing his best to drag everyone else out of the boat and into the water. “unless someone put amoebas in it, i think we’re safe.”

“is it manmade?” josie asks. everyone is silent for a moment.

“i thought it was,” riley says.

“i don’t know if it is.” kristopher cocks his head thoughtfully. “is it? it’s really fucking big to be manmade.”

“man made the pyramids, you don’t think man can make a fucking lake?” riley asks, tugging on kristopher’s arm. “come on. let’s go.”

“at least let me take my shirt off.”

“ugh,” you groan accidentally. chantal and josie laugh at you and kristopher pretends he didn’t hear it as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, over his head. you really dread riley jumping into the water. the way his hair frizzes when it’s wet is really adorable.

“yeah, okay, you look good shirtless. whatever. 4 years in and he still looks like that, whatever, can you believe it? oh my god, so sexy.” riley says, rolling his eyes at himself. “let’s go.”

kristopher frowns at him and you watch as they both dive in, putting your head in your hand and resting your elbow on your knee. it’s finally late enough in the day that a beer sounds good to you, but you didn’t eat before you left and all riley brought was doritos and twizzlers. you suppose it’s better than nothing and grab for the cooler in the middle with the food, trying to decide which one to take. chantal and josie are watching you.

“what?”

“you’ve been quiet all morning.”

“he’s always quiet.”

“riley’s energy was putting me off,” you tell them. “one coffee wasn’t enough.”

“you went to bed earlier than any of us, weren’t you rested enough?” chantal asks. you decide on the doritos. less sugar. probably. 

“it was friday,” you shrug. “i usually sleep in on saturdays. riley was on the foot of my bed at seven.”

“you’re really supposed to leave at like, four, for float trips,” josie informs you and you roll your eyes.

“this isn’t a float trip, it’s just five assholes getting drunk in a boat.”

they both laugh heartily at you but you didn’t mean it as a joke. that’s exactly what this is. 

“i just like your choice of attire,” josie says, reaching out and pulling at your sweatpants. “who wears long sleeves and sweatpants on a boat?”

“white guys,” chantal offers, and you point at her knowingly.

“exactly. especially pale blonds.”

“are you blond?” josie asks. “i thought you were a redhead.”

“he’s a strawberry blond,” chantal says. “but either way, he needs to cover his skin up so it doesn’t burn. yeah?”

“i guess that makes sense,” josie shrugs as you nod. “good for you for taking care of yourself. riley should probably have put more sunscreen on than he did. i keep telling him that just because he has dark skin doesn’t mean the sun won’t hurt him. we’re both darker than him and we put some on.”

“you can’t tell riley anything,” you say, shoving a good amount of doritos into your mouth forlornly. “he won’t do anything unless he thinks it was his idea.”

they both laugh again and start complimenting each other’s skin, leaving you to sit on the foot of the boat alone, stuffing your face with as many doritos as you can before you feel sick and then drinking a beer as you watch kristopher lift riley out of the water and throw him like a child. you fall asleep sitting up when everyone starts making out around you and wake up when riley is climbing back into the boat.

“how long has it been?” you ask groggily.

“since when?” riley asks, dripping everywhere as he lifts himself up and pulls himself onto the floor at your feet.

“since i fell asleep.”

“i don’t know.” riley stands up and looks down at you. he’s blocking the sun, which is a coincidence because to you, riley is the sun.

“how long have you been in the water?”

“like, forty minutes.”

“you were in the water for forty minutes straight?”

“i have a lot of energy. plus kristopher can reach the bottom so he was holding me up most of the time.”

you forego the part where they were touching intimately - and the part where kristopher did something you’d never be able to do - and go straight to incredulity.

“he was holding you for forty minutes?”

“no, like twenty.”

“why aren’t you more hungover?”

“why aren’t you more drunk?” riley asks with a grin, pointing at your half-finished beer. “you know that one guy, freddie? the engineer?”

“yeah?”

“he says he can install a margarita maker on the boat. like, on the other side of the motor. i want it so bad.”

“i bet you do.” you say it judgmentally as riley settles himself on the seat across from you with a huge grin still plastered on his face. you sigh. “actually that sounds pretty awesome.”

“a manmade margarita maker,” riley says, placing his hand under the bottom of the bottle and lifting it to your mouth, insisting you drink. you do. what riley wants, riley gets.

you’re not really that much drunker by the time you get back and neither is anyone else, least of all riley, who was too busy fighting with kristopher to drink. they got into an argument about what to do tonight and kristopher won. he insisted someone go get groceries and while riley agreed with that, they couldn’t come to a consensus on where to actually go - the one with more food or the one with alcohol. kristopher argued that they’d brought plenty of alcohol and riley contended that there’s never enough alcohol. you called him an alcoholic and he pouted the rest of the way home.

kristopher has the car keys in his hand when you come back down from your shower. chantal and josie are still taking theirs - together, you assume, so they won’t be down for a while - and riley is nowhere to be seen.

“come on,” kristopher barks at you.

“what?”

“come on,” he says, reaching out to grab at your wrist. you pull away. you haven’t forgotten the night before. you don’t know what he wants but you’re sure as hell not letting him touch you.

“don’t grab at me.”

“we have to go get groceries.”

“us?” you ask in shock. “why us? why just us?”

“because the lesbians are having sex and riley is mad at me. but i’m mad at riley too so i don’t wanna be around him anyway!” he says, shouting the last part so that riley can hear him wherever he is. you turn around and look but can’t find him anywhere. then a voice calls from the kitchen, “suck me off!” and you shake your head.

“i don’t wanna go. go by yourself.”

“i need someone to help with them. we’re getting a lot.”

“why? we’re only here for like two more days, right?”

“no one’s eaten yet. we don’t have any real food. it’s been almost twenty-four hours since we got here. we’ve been drinking alcohol and running low on bottled water. we have at least seven more meals to go, if not more. we. need. food. get. in. the. car.”

you don’t know how you end up in the dairy aisle with kristopher, but you’re holding out the almond milk you usually buy and he’s shrugging at you, to your surprise.

“dairy is a terrible industry,” you say. he’s nodding. what?

“get the almond milk. i’ll get a small thing of dairy milk. they should’ve come if they wanted something else.”

“by ‘they’ you mean riley, yeah?”

“he’s being a little brat,” kristopher mutters. “he doesn’t actually care about the alcohol, you know. he cares about getting his way and that’s it. he knows we have enough liquor and he’s not even going to really get that drunk. he never does on these kinds of weekends. he just wants what he wants.”

“what riley wants, riley gets,” you say softly. kristopher scoffs.

“exactly. he’s not always like that. but he gets into little moods. this one’s lasted a few days. usually they’re just a few hours. i don’t know why he’s acting up right now.”

“maybe he’s just bored.”

kristopher stops in his tracks. you didn’t mean to cause him alarm, but he’s looking at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. you look away in confusion and then back at him; he’s still staring at you.

“what?”

“bored of me?”

“no,” you frown. “like, bored in general. he’ll probably quit his job in two weeks or something. or dye his hair. or get another piercing.”

“what do you mean?”

“riley always does that. he gets bored and wants something impulsive.”

“but quitting your job isn’t like the other two.”

“yeah, he probably won’t do that. but he doesn’t care about that job so much. i wouldn’t be surprised.”

“quitting your job is on par with breaking up with your boyfriend.”

you look kristopher in the eye as you finally understand his worry. you don’t know what to say at first so you straighten up and look away again. there’s something morbidly amusing - even satisfying - about kristopher terrified that he’s about to lose riley. but you know that’s not going to happen. and you know being excited for that is the worst thing a best friend could do.

“he’s not going to break up with you,” you say slowly. “don’t get all worked up. i just meant riley likes to get excited about things and when he’s not excited he ju-”

“dumps it.”

“no,” you persist. “he’s not going to dump you, jesus, chill out. i wouldn’t have said anything if i knew you were gonna flip your shit - you really think riley is going to dump you, anyway? he’s impulsive but he doesn’t just hurt people. he doesn’t just leave them. he’s not going to dump you. okay? can you chill out?”

kristopher takes a deep breath. he looks over his shoulder for a few seconds and just when you’re about to tell him to chill out again, he turns to the bread aisle and glares.

“i’m getting whole wheat and if you don’t like it you can get your own.”

thankfully, that was the hardest of the grocery shopping. the rest is easy. you and kristopher seem to agree on everything which is surprising but you’re not going to look it in the mouth. he eats as healthy as you do and you suppose you simply never noticed through all of riley’s potato chips and movie popcorn. but kristopher doesn’t leave your mind. between last night and just now, he’s been fairly erratic with you this weekend and you’re not sure why. usually he just smirks at you and leaves. but last night especially - what was that? you’re still a little blown away by it. but grocery store kristopher certainly isn’t going to bring it up and you wonder if he remembers it at all.

you suppose it was fair of him to force you into going with him; once you get home you have to make two trips between the two of you to get all the food inside and put away. chantal and josie offer to help and as you’re handing them a bag, kristopher declines because he’s a gentleman and will do all the manual labor himself. you look at him flatly and take the bag back, instead handing it to him. he takes it with a sneer and you shake your head at him as he walks away.

“i bet going with him was fun,” chantal says. you shrug.

“it wasn’t that bad. we like a lot of the same foods so…” you trail off. “so it was fine.”

as you’re talking to chantal and josie, you notice out of the corner of your eye that riley pulls kristopher onto the deck and closes the door behind them. josie is talking about her dog and you’re genuinely interested in what she’s saying, but you can’t stop looking up at the two boyfriends standing outside, probably making up as you sit here like a fart on the couch. 

“what’s your dog’s name again?”

“howard.”

“...howard? a dog?”

“he’s named after my ex. who was, after all, a dog.”

chantal laughs and then kisses her girlfriend and you have to admit you do crack a smile yourself. it’s not a bad idea, except -

“doesn’t that reflect poorly on the dog?”

“what?”

“like, the poor dog has to be named after someone shitty?”

josie looks down at the floor as if her mind is blown. you think you might have just ruined the joke, which isn’t unlike you. chantal looks at you in disappointment.

“i never thought about that.”

“it’s a good name,” you correct. “i mean, it’s a bad name. because it’s a bad person. it’s a good name to name your dog, like, after your ex. because - jesus. i’m gonna start making dinner.”

josie is still talking about it when riley and kristopher come inside. you’re still shaking your head at yourself, not because it’s such a big deal - it’s not like you ruined something important - but because this is going to be a joke for the rest of the weekend. hey, remember when kiran changed josie’s entire world by pointing out she named her sweet, beloved dog after a dirty, nasty man? but this chicken isn’t going to bread itself so you’re hard at work when they re-enter the house, looking as if something serious just happened. not serious like they broke up - but serious like something has happened. when riley turns to you, the look in his eye confirms it.

“wh - what’s wrong?” you ask nervously. kristopher looks at you with a grim expression and then turns into the living room instead, leaving you with riley, who’s still in his swimsuit and staring at the floor.

“hey. i’m sorry i’ve been - can i talk to you somewhere else?”

you don’t know what he wants but he seems serious. you don’t know what he’s apologizing for, either. you let him take you by the upper arm and lead you outside, closing the door so no one can hear you.

“so… i just told kristopher this. but i don’t want chantal and josie to know.”

“know what?”

riley looks up at you with tears in his eyes. your heart skips a beat. any animosity or irritation you felt melts away because riley doesn’t cry often. riley doesn’t cry over nothing.

“my mom might have cancer.”

you don’t say a word. you just reach out and hold riley the way he held you that night a few weeks ago, when you were blubbering about your own mother. you let him cry. you listen to him sob quietly into your shirt, unworried about the lakewater getting all over your clean clothes. he tells you a bit more information - she found a lump in her neck and went to the doctor and it’s being biopsied but it doesn’t look great, especially with the family medical history and your heart breaks for riley and his mother, who you’ve known intimately your whole life. she was like your own mother in that she was absolutely nothing like your real mom. she was the only woman you had in your life growing up. you know you’ll need to call her soon. you tell him that you’re going to do that and he nods into your chest. then he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.

you don’t let yourself get excited. you especially don’t let yourself point out that he didn’t cry with kristopher. he saved that vulnerability for you.

“what did kristopher say?”

“he just said he was sorry and he wanted to go call her but i told him not to. mostly i just - and what i meant to do here - i just wanted to apologize. kristopher is right, i was being a brat today which is really only okay in the bedroom. so i’m sorry.”

“in the bedroom?”

“like… yeah. you know.”

you don’t know but you also wonder if you want to know. you shake your head. 

“whatever. look, you weren’t being a brat today at all. kristopher was also being unreasonable.”

riley grins at you. 

“that’s complete bullshit but thank you for humoring me while my mom has cancer.”

“that’s what best friends do.” you put your arm around him and hug him tightly. “i wanna call her, too. when can i do that?”

“she’ll know if it’s dangerous by next week so just wait,” he says. “if it’s not good, you can call. if it’s fine, i don’t wanna worry about it anymore.”

“alright,” you nod. that’s fair enough. you’re close to riley’s mom but not like he is, obviously. she was confused when he first told her he was trans at fourteen but she never rejected him. she understood eventually and was his most important confidante in that time. you did your best but as a teenager, you couldn’t help him through a lot. she went to doctors and surgeons and therapists with him - things a best friend simply couldn’t do. you don’t know what riley would do if he lost her. 

you don’t know what you would do. 

“let’s go inside,” you tell him. “i’ll drink with you all night.”

“okay. sure. but i want it to be like college.”

“it will be.”

“except there’s only five of us.”

“we’ve partied with less.”

“that’s true,” he smiles. 

“and you’ll probably get lucky tonight.”

“you’ll suck me off?”

“i meant kristopher,” you deadpan. he grins wider. 

“kristopher is mad at me,” he says, looking away earnestly. “he’ll be nice to me now but he won’t sleep with me.”

you can’t wrap your head around it. someone being presented with the chance to sleep with riley and not taking it. it’s bizarre. 

“why?”

“because he feels bad for me but i was still a brat,” he shrugs. “i mean, if he doesn’t feel like fucking me then that’s his prerogative. it’s like his way of pointing out that i can still be irritating even if something bad happened.”

“hm,” you hum, mulling it over. “i guess that makes sense. still. i think if my boyfriend’s mom was sick and he wanted me to blow him, i’d probably do it, even if he was a little bit annoying earlier.”

“so you do think i was being annoying earlier?”

“let’s go inside before i get myself in trouble.”

kristopher is already peeling potatoes aggressively when you finally get back inside and chantal and josie are none the wiser. they don’t know riley’s world is slowly, hesitantly, conditionally crashing all around him. josie is in chantal’s lap as they lounge in one of the bar stools across from kristopher and when riley slinks over and wraps his arms around kristopher’s waist, you take over in the kitchen and let the lesbians and the gays gather in the living room to remind you that you’re single and that you don’t really care.

you’d like a family. you’d like a partner and kids and a dog. not a cat. maybe a rabbit but probably a dog. you’d like to have a career and not just a job. but you majored in computer science with no programming experience and you’re fucking single so none of that is coming true any time soon. well, maybe the dog. but you’re on the top floor and it would probably drive your neighbors batty. 

you don’t cook for yourself as much as you should. you’re pretty good at it and it keeps stupid thoughts like families and dogs out of your head. you fry the chicken and boil the potatoes and microwave the vegetables and all of it together is enough to take your attention away from riley straddling kristopher in the other room, shoving his tongue down his throat only minutes after claiming it wasn’t gonna happen. only minutes after promising to drink with you. so you pour yourself a drink instead - rum and coke, strong - and watch as the potatoes soften. you can sort of relate to these potatoes, if kristopher is the blade skinning you mercilessly and riley is the water boiling you alive.

you hear the rustling before you feel riley’s hand on your back and see kristopher’s hands on the pot in front of you. riley is grinning at you - as always - as he takes your drink and helps himself to a long, sensual sip. he sits next to and swivels slightly as he puts the drink back down and licks his lips. 

“that’s fucking strong.”

“well, i’m the only one not getting drunk on love,” you say sarcastically. riley grunts. 

“i get it, i get it. make me a drink. you promised it would be like college.”

“i did,” you nod, reaching for the rum and handing it to riley who is willing to drink it straight. “that was before you ran off to get lucky.”

“eat first,” kristopher says before riley can respond to you. his mouth is open but he closes it in irritation and throws a little glare at kristopher. “then drink all you want. but we all need some real food in our systems. we’re going a little crazy.”

riley doesn’t respond. he takes on long swig of rum and then hands the bottle over to you. you pour some more in your glass before you put it away. 

dinner is good, if you do say so yourself. the chicken cutlets are thin and crispy and the potatoes are creamy, mashed by kristopher though they were. if you shovel the corn and peas down your throat with the rest of the meal you can hardly tell they’re a little mushy, but that’s what you get for getting the frozen stuff instead of fresh. (“frozen is better than fresh anyway,” kristopher had said, “they flash freeze them immediately so they don’t ge-” “-don’t get touched and tossed around as much, yeah,” you’d nodded. “i know.”)

but after dinner is better. 

kristopher decides to retire to bed. you can tell he’s tired. he kisses riley on the forehead and riley grabs him and kisses his lips deeply, then tells him goodnight and turns back to you. chantal and josie quickly do the same, swearing up and down they’re really going to sleep and they’ll party for real tomorrow tonight, quelling riley’s protestations. that just leaves the two of you on the couch, knees touching as you face each other, slightly tipsy and splitting the rest of the rum down the middle. straight. alone. 

he takes a huge sip and hands over the bottle. you follow suit. 

“i can’t drink like i used to.”

“come on,” riley chides. “i’m the old one here.”

“kristopher’s the old one,” you laugh. “i can’t believe he’s 30.”

“me neither. he acts 30, too. he has, like, a roth ira account and is really deep into his 401k. i don’t know. i’m just lucky i have health insurance.”

you nod. riley never graduated college. he got a part-time job sophomore year that turned full-time somehow and never went back to class. he’s an office administrator, which you surmise is basically running the office logistics, like making sure there are enough thumbtacks and that the scheduling software is up to date. you worry about your job sometimes, but at least you’re not in riley’s position. at least kristopher is a paralegal, but you don’t understand anything about what he does, just that he makes a good amount of money and that his bosses like him a lot. riley’s boss really likes him, too. 

your boss thinks you’re a good worker. you always get cost of living raises and excellent reviews. but he doesn’t really know you the way riley and kristopher know their bosses and coworkers. they go drinking with them. you only drink with riley. you can’t imagine drinking with-

you shiver just thinking robert’s name. 

“what’s wrong?”

your head shoots up and you look riley in the eyes. 

“huh?”

“you made a weird sound. are you cold?”

“yeah,” you lie. “it’s fine.” you hold up the rum. “i’ll warm up.”

“i’m sure there are blankets somewhere.”

“i’m fine.”

“come here.”

riley is so genuine. he’s not screwing with you or being a big flirt. he just shoves forward and swings his legs over yours and pulls you close. close enough that he rests his head on your shoulder. this isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled with riley but it’s the first time you’ve noticed how well he fits with you… as well as he fits with kristopher. you reach down to hand him the rum and he takes it. he sips from it like a baby from a bottle and you wince. 

“i’m really fine.”

“then why’d you shiver?”

you need more to drink. but taking the rum without a word tips riley off. he doesn’t pull away but he looks up and when you peer down at him, your heart stops. his mouth is open slightly, his eyes are wide. he looks at you so innocently and with so much concern. you choke. 

“seriously, what’s wrong?”

“i had a chill,” you say quickly. “it wasn’t anything. you just want it to be something.”

he raises his eyebrows and smiles. he nestles in closer and looks away again. 

“i’m a diva.”

“i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“hey, kiran.”

“yeah?”

“i’m really worried about my mom.”

you tighten around him instinctively. riley is a dramatic guy but he’s so quiet when he speaks of his mother. this isn’t drama. this is serious. this is tragedy. 

“i know. i am, too.”

“she always asks about you,” he says. “she’s so sad she never sees you anymore. she still thinks you were the only good influence on me growing up.”

“you were just a bad influence on me,” you grin. he nods heartily. 

“but she could tell you were more…”

“boring.”

“no.”

“less exciting.”

“no.”

“shy?” you ask. “reserved? you’re sure it’s not boring?”

“just because you’re quiet doesn’t mean you’re boring. remember you’re the one who started the naked party.”

“oh, ugh,” you groan immediately rolling your head back. the naked party. that night you bought grapefruit vodka because it was on sale and you quickly found out why: it was disgusting. so you, riley, and two friends that you were both semi-dating at the time did shots all night and took your clothes off. you don’t know why. you just got hot and took your shirt off and you still remember the way riley’s eyes went wide. he reached over to feel your pecs. the guy you were dating got jealous and took his shirt off, too. riley stripped down to a tank top and panties. riley’s boyfriend just followed suit - if anything, he was the boring one. 

“i miss the naked party.”

“i don’t,” you say, suddenly remembering how violent seeing riley’s boyfriend’s dick was. “don’t ever let me do that with kristopher. i don’t want to see him naked.”

“oh, you should,” riley says with an air of humor. “he looks amazing. almost as good as you.”

“almost?”

“oh, no one will ever take my breath away the way your chest did that night.” he takes a sip of rum and smacks his lips loud. “it was just because i was drunk. i’ve seen you shirtless before. but for some reason that night it really got me.”

“and i’ve only gotten better.”

“i don’t doubt it. you should let me see sometime. when we’re not in the sun that’ll ruin your fragile, porcelain skin.”

“wanna see it right now?”

riley doesn’t answer immediately. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat quicken. you wonder if that was too far. you wonder why, after everything, that is what sent riley into a silence. 

“i love kristopher,” he says. at first you worry, but you hear a lilt in his voice, like there’s a but coming. “he’s so good to me. one of the only good boyfriends i’ve ever had. he’s so gay but dates me anyway. he even goes down on me even though he doesn’t really like pussy. sorry, i just. all i was gonna say is that there’s something about you…”

you perk up. 

“me?”

“like, no matter what i do, kristopher is always gonna be - like, you’re my friend since we were babies. kristopher can’t compete with that.”

“what do you mean?”

“there’s just this really important feeling i get with you. you knew me before i was out. you’re the only person i still know from back then. i lost a lot of people but you were so happy to call me riley immediately. you didn’t ask me any questions. you weren’t confused. when i told you, you just sat there quietly, you nodded over and over again and kept saying it was gonna be okay. so don’t ever call yourself boring. i never needed someone the way i needed you then and you were there. i’m so scared about my mom. and i’d rather be here with you right now. there’s just a feeling i get with you. it's not that kristopher is missing anything. you just have something different.”

you don’t fully understand. it might be the rum finally catching up to you. but right now riley needs you. he needs you and maybe he needs kristopher too but he needs you and nothing can take that away. you put your arm around him without a word. they’re really not necessary, despite how many just tumbled out of riley’s drunken mouth. he needs you. that’s all that’s going through your head. riley gets a special feeling when he’s with you. hearing it makes your head spin. 

so why you suddenly crave robert is beyond you, especially when you realize all you really want is for him to fuck the breath out of you. fuck the life out of you. fuck riley out of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure why it indented some of this and not other lines, I hate AO3's indentation issues.


	4. the long weekend, day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he gets you on the ground, straddles your hips and tangles his hands in your hair. you can feel his hips thrust slightly against yours and you arch your back on accident. both are accidents. the thrust, the arch, the moans. he’s making out with you in earnest, his tongue tangling around yours and when you open your eyes for a moment he’s frowning in concentration, focused solely on you.
> 
> you want it to happen. you don’t just let it happen. you want it to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw sexual content

 

 

the reception at the lake house sucks and kristopher’s parents apparently don’t understand wifi because it cuts out every half an hour so you spent most of the weekend on airplane mode - anyone you’d want to hear from is here and your dad calls rather than texts. plus, you don’t want to deal with an emergency right now. you need to collect yourself. things have been too wild and sitting in the breezy warmth of the lake with a bottle of water and a shitty book is exactly what you need right now.

 

that means you tend to get a windfall of messages all at once when the reception cuts back in. that’s how you end up staring at 12 e-mails at once, all from robert, all lewd and lascivious and uninvited. your face gets hot. your heart races.

 

you’re _excited._ and you’re terrified because you’re excited. last night ended oddly; riley fell asleep with his mouth open and you were admiring how cute he was even so when suddenly kristopher was tapping you on the shoulder with a yawn. you’d slept most of the night on the couch with your best friend, desperately convincing yourself to stop thinking about the old man that kept occupying your thoughts. kristopher pulled riley up into his arms and said he was going to take him to bed and tuck him in. you groggily asked if that was a euphemism. kristopher looked at riley as if to check he was really asleep. he opened his mouth but apparently thought better of it and just smirked instead.

 

you imagine it was going to go something like, _“oh yeah… i’m gonna come inside him and you’re gonna be thinking about it for days, aren’t you?”_

 

but there’s a different man feeding you sexy lines now and they’re a lot more blunt than you imagine kristopher is in his dirty talk. you wonder how he dirty talks. you wonder if riley ever talks dirty or if kristopher is as overcome with want as you are and dominates the conversation. you can imagine yourself mumbling like an idiot into riley’s ear the whole time about how you’ve always wanted this, you can’t believe it’s happening, you’re going to fuck him until his nose bleeds, you’re going to fuck him on the boss’s desk and- well, that last one is from robert but you would fuck riley anywhere, including your or his boss’s desk. his choice.

 

you sigh to yourself as you realize you don’t have to respond. you don’t have to do anything. you don’t even have to tell robert you _got_ the emails; you’re at a lake with very little reception and shitty wifi for god’s sake, so why you’re hitting reply and formulating your message back to him is beyond you.

 

_stop emailing me. text me. 6294841375._

 

you don’t exactly wait by your phone but it seems robert does. or his computer, more likely, because you’re his it worker so you know for a fact he has a hard time doing anything on his iphone. he texts you immediately.

 

_I can’t get you out of my head. When will you be home?_

 

you frown to yourself. you won’t leave until tomorrow afternoon and you imagine riley will want some time to himself - and his mom - so you’ll be alone all night. you could definitely use it as a chance to rest before starting the work week, or you could have robert over to fuck the depression out of you.

 

_tomorrow night but pretty late. probably wont see you until work_

 

you have next to no time to consider what you want to do. his answer is immediate:

 

_Please let me see you tomorrow night. Just one hour._

 

a moment passes, then:

 

_Half an hour. Ten minutes. Ten seconds. Just for a bit._

 

you breathe in deeply. it’s early afternoon and riley dragged kristopher out into the woods for a little hike. chantal and josie are on the water in a paddle boat, you can still just barely see them in the distance; they’re probably stopped and making out which makes you realize riley is probably straddling kristopher’s hips right now, too.

 

_you just wanna fuck?_

 

not that you’d mind. in fact, you’re secretly hoping for it.

 

_I just want to see you._

 

_be honest. do you want to fuck me?_

 

you want him to say it. you want to read him say it.

 

_If you’ll let me_

 

you laugh sardonically. as if he’s ever taken no for an answer.

 

_if i’ll let you?_ you stop while you’re typing, filled with some unexplainable rage. how dare he? how dare he treat you like you have any say in this relationship? or in any relationship. _you’ve never cared about my hesitation before. if i let you come over you’ll be fucking me in five minutes, flat. stop acting like you respect me. just treat me like the cum receptacle i am and fucuddiiifji_

 

“did i spook you?”

 

you jump at riley’s touch. you really weren’t expecting him to be back so soon and you suppose you were so wrapped up in your conversation that you didn’t hear them come in. you hit the side button as quickly as possible but it’s too late.

 

“are you getting reception?” riley asks quickly. “who are you texting?”

 

“my dad.”

 

“i wanna text my mom but i keep losing signal right when i hit send. it’s so annoying.”

 

riley pulls a chair up next to you on the deck and situates it under your umbrella. he points at your compression pants.

 

“i see you’re covering that delicate skin up as always. do you often text your dad the word ‘cum?’”

 

you scowl at him immediately. your phone buzzes in your hand and you know it’s robert again but there’s too much happening right now. riley saw your text and is trying to play it off as a joke but he cares. he wants to know who you’re talking dirty with. part of you wishes he was jealous but you know he’s not. that’s not it. he’s just nosey and wants you to have a boyfriend so you can double date. that sounds agonizing.

 

“don’t read over my shoulder.”

 

“i didn’t mean to,” he grins. “sorry. i guess you don’t want me to know.”

 

“i don’t,” you growl. riley’s grin vanishes.

 

“alright,” he says solemnly. “i said i was sorry. i didn’t mean to read it, you just flipped your phone funny and i saw it.”

 

“you didn’t have to mention it.”

 

“o- _kay,”_ he says, starting to sound annoyed himself, not that he has any fucking reason to be. “i said i was sorry, let’s just drop it.”

 

you roll your eyes at him with a small scoff from the back of your throat.

 

“fucking nosey.”

 

“hey!” he shouts indignantly. “i said drop it!”

 

“and i said nosey.”

 

riley is suddenly nearly on top of you, his face in yours and his nose against your cheek. you turn to him in surprise and nearly kiss him in the process.

 

“ _this_ is nosey,” he says quietly. you nearly faint as your eyes meet his and once you realize how close you are you grab his shoulders and push him away violently. he’s cracking himself up as he falls back into his seat and you realize you’re so angry because you _can’t_ let him find out about robert. and if he knows you’re sexting someone, it’s only a matter of time before you can’t cover your tracks and if riley finds out you’re fucking some old man you work with he’ll want to understand why and _you_ can’t even understand that so how are you supposed to explain it to the love of your life?

 

“you’re incorrigible,” you tell him, anger fading and giving way to sheer panic and a desire to keep things from escalating suddenly. “i was reading before you came in and terrified me.”

 

“well, i’d ask what you were reading but i don’t wanna be _nosey,”_ he says and you grit your teeth to keep from shouting at him. you look over and watch as he pulls the feet out from the chair and settles in, lounges back and relaxes, his head resting comfortably against the pillow and eyes closing as he looks toward the sun. his red-copper hair is a little long and it falls forward, into his eyes. he looks so peaceful- and sensual. you stare. you don’t even make it a secret. it’s not like he can tell. his eyes are closed.

 

but kristopher’s aren’t.

 

you don’t realize he’d watching from behind you until he’s already gone. you hear the rustle of his jeans as he leaves, so you turn your head and watch him walk away, into the kitchen and stand at the counter. the douche takes out his protein powder and just before he starts measuring it out, he catches your eye. he holds your gaze for a moment. and then he smirks.

 

riley has a grin. kristopher has this _smirk._ you don’t know what you have. you don’t think you have anything. but while riley’s grin can infuriate you when you want him so bad you might explode, kristopher’s smirk makes you want to collapse in on yourself like a dying star.

 

his eyes trail over to riley. then he actually jerks his head toward him and you watch intently. he puts the side of his fist against his cheek and pokes his tongue out the other side.

 

riley blew him in the woods. and now he’s telling you about it.

 

you close your eyes for a moment. kristopher has to have your number. he _must_ know. but you swear he’d destroy your life if he did, and he doesn’t make any move to blackmail you or let you know otherwise that he’s aware of your feelings for riley.

 

so he’s really just being a gigantic douchebag.

 

you shake your head at him and turn back around. a few moments later you hear him rattling his protein shake cup around and you look down at your own pale, limber legs. you use protein sometimes, but you’ve never worked too hard on your muscles. riley’s never really had a type. but you suddenly wish you’d put more work into your body despite riley dying over your pecs just the night before.

 

what were you doing? you were reading this cheesy young adult novel because you’re 23 and still get off to happy endings.[  
  
](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zegjrb)

you were texting robert. and he’s texted you several times in the last few minutes. you open your phone and your eyes are assaulted immediately:

 

_I know I come off as very needy. I’m not needy though, I just need YOU. I need to feel you around me again. I need to touch your back and squeeze your muscles, feel your skin. I need that feeling again. The one I get from fucking you._

 

_Hello?_

 

_I’m sorry if I come off strong. I just have to have you._

 

_I know you’re put off by my aggressiveness. But let me assure you, I want nothing from you. Just your ass, your mouth, your hands… that’s all. I don't need emotions or commitments. I’m happy to keep it all a secret. I really don’t mind. Just please let me have you again._

 

your lip curls up in disgust. you can’t believe you indulged this old man. you can’t believe he’s been inside you. you can’t believe he thinks he’s pulling one over on you. it’s like a switch flips. there’s a big difference between sexual harassment robert and hopeless romantic robert but they’re both robert and they’re both unbearable.

 

you erase everything you had written before riley jump scared you. you stare at the blank screen, determined to tell him to fuck off.

 

_fine. 6pm. and you’re gone by 7. just dump your cum in me and leave._

 

yeah. that’ll show him.

 

if he texts back, you don’t get it. the signal goes out almost immediately after sending the text. gratefully, it sends at all and you just thank god for that. thank fucking god.

 

riley falls asleep in the chair next to you so you put your book down and follow suit. riley was always that older boy who lived next door and looked a lot cooler than you. right now is no exception. he looks way more comfortable and adorable right now than you will ever be in your entire life. you settle for second best and close your eyes under the umbrella, just happy to occupy the same space as the most frustrating, infuriating, trying boy you’ve ever known.

 

it’s still light out when you wake up - that’s not all that shocking since it’s about 3:30pm - what’s shocking is that chantal and josie are already drunk and kristopher is getting there. his eyes are pink and his face looks a little flushed, too- it’s hard to tell because his skin is so dark; it’s not like when you’re red-faced and embarrassed, but he’s pretty happy to say the least. riley is not, seeing as everyone started the party without him and he says he’s going to catch up quickly. you believe him even though you know it’s not true - he _wants_ to catch up, but he won’t, not with his tolerance. it’s going to take about two hours before he’s anywhere near where they are and they’ll be long gone by then.

 

you sort of want to get drunk for real, too. you wonder if you shouldn’t though, just to make sure nothing really bad happens. then again, that’s not your responsibility.

 

in the end, the crazy thing is not that it’s the middle of the afternoon or that your shins are burned raw from the moving sun or that riley has done three shots in ten minutes.

 

it’s that josie forces everyone into a circle and then slams down an empty beer bottle onto the hardwood floor.

 

before you understand her point, the bottle spins. it spins so hard it goes off course and ends up near the fireplace. but it’s pointing straight at kristopher and it’s not until the two of them are kissing that you _really_ get what’s happening.

 

you’ve kissed riley a few times. it wasn’t until college though and it was always in these exact situations: other people riling him up and getting him to do almost anything as long as it’s exciting and will make him feel something other than existential dread. you find you don’t really mind that nihilistic train of thought; the one that lets you pretend nothing matters anyway so who cares if riley doesn’t love you? but there was a long period of time where riley was too much like an older brother - or rather, he viewed _you_ as a _younger_ brother, so he’d teach you about sex but he’d never dream of actually having it with you. it wasn’t until you hit 21 that he at 25 could view you as a raw, sexual being, and as such, didn’t mind playing a childish game of spin the bottle - or 7 minutes in heaven, which is the memory that sticks out strongest in your mind.

 

6 minutes and 53 seconds of sitting on the closed toilet lid while he straddled the edge of the tub and 7 seconds of his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hands grasping your face. he’d laughed and said it was fun to finally do that but made no other move the rest of your duration in the bathroom. you were too shocked to do anything else. you were, cheesily enough, in heaven.

 

he’d kissed you a few more times but never that intensely again. it was when you were drunk and confiding in each other or bonding over shared traumas. he’d kiss you on the lips after and say, _“sorry, i forgot you’re not like the others.”_ you still don’t know what that means, but you ache to hear it again.

 

you have never, however, kissed kristopher.

 

his hand is gripping the back of your head before you’re pulled from your thoughts of riley. you accidentally gasp which only serves to open your mouth for him when he slaps a sloppy kiss against you, and you close your lips around his on accident. you’re so thrown that you let it happen for a few seconds before shoving him away and flushing in shame at the laughter surrounding you. you can’t decide if you wished you’d gotten into or not because you desperately don’t want to kiss kristopher but being the party pooper is even worse. especially when even riley is chiding you.

 

“it’s okay kiran, i know he’s a terrible kisser,” he says. kristopher pokes his side and riley shrieks far louder than he needs to. then josie hands you the bottle and nods at it.

 

“your turn, kiran.”

 

you look at her for a few seconds as if she can’t be serious. four minutes ago you were asleep on the deck chair and now you’re in the house with four drunks who want to kiss you.

 

but you suppose it could be worse, especially seeing as there’s very little chance you’re getting out of this without kissing riley at least once.

 

you snatch the bottle from her and toss it to the ground. you grip it tight and take a deep breath. _riley, riley, riley, land on riley, let me kiss him, let me show him how much better i’ve gotten at sex since the night he kissed me at jamie lanston’s birthday party. riley. RILEY._

 

when the bottle stops on kristopher, you deflate.

 

“i’m going again.”

 

you reach out but josie stops you. she grabs your hand and then pushes it away.

 

“nuh-uh, you gotta kiss again. and if you get each other a third time, you have to make out.”

 

_“what?”_ you ask breathlessly. “since when have those been the rules?”

 

“always,” riley shrugs and you realize, of course, he’s right, you’ve just never played with less than 22 people before so it never came to you more than twice. this means you might be making out with everyone in this room before you go to sleep tonight.

 

kristopher is in front of you again, leaning across the shitty circle you’re sitting in and cocks his head to the side. he’s staring you down with that fucking smirk and half-lidded eyes. he grabs your shirt collar but doesn’t pull you close yet.

 

“are you disgusted by me?” he asks. josie and chantal are giggling and riley is taking a long drink. “most people feel lucky to kiss me.”

 

“most people are fucking idiots.”

 

“you’ve never liked me,” he says suddenly, causing you to raise your eyebrows in alarm. “i’ve never been able to figure out why.”

 

is that true? or is he just keeping his cards close to the chest? does he see right through you? is he a secret genius? is he waiting to expose your feelings for riley until he can gain the maximum amount of pleasure from it? or does he really not pick up on any of it? is he actually even dumber than you think he is?

 

“i don’t dislike you,” you say. “i just don’t wanna kiss you.”

 

“you wanna pass?”

 

“ye-”

 

you start to say yeah, of course you do, when something suddenly overcomes you. it’s a sense of urgency, as you’ve just realized that no one will force you to do anything but you’ll be the lame one. the shy one. the one who won’t kiss anyone.

 

but it’s also far more heavily a sudden realization that kristopher is so _hot_ and the way he stares at you is actually incredibly sexy and you - you kind of want to kiss him. not because you _like_ him. it’s purely physical. everything about him right now is so domineering and you think you might melt if you don’t do something. quick.

 

you brain short circuits. you grab the hand that has a hold of your shirt and twist it off, noting the slight look of surprise on kristopher’s face before you fling it away and pull him close instead. he’s wearing a polo so his collar is easier to grip tight as you pull him in close. you don’t open your mouth and you’re not using tongue, but you do twist your neck as your noses smash together in a kiss, pulling a shocked moan from kristopher’s throat, too.

 

you’re feeling pretty good about yourself when you pull away. josie and chantal are cheering and riley doesn’t seem put out at all if the big grin on his face says anything. when you look at kristopher, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. then he takes the beer bottle and puts it on the floor between the two of you, the neck facing towards the wall to your left. he turns it until it’s pointing towards you, then lets go of it and you register what he’s doing just before it happens.

 

he gets you on the ground, straddles your hips and tangles his hands in your hair. you can feel his hips thrust slightly against yours and you arch your back on accident. both are accidents. the thrust, the arch, the moans. he’s making out with you in earnest, his tongue tangling around yours and when you open your eyes for a moment he’s frowning in concentration, focused solely on you.

 

you want it to happen. you don’t just let it happen. you _want_ it to happen.

 

it has everything to do with a sudden attraction to kristopher’s massive, gentle body and nothing to do with even remembering riley is in the room. josie and chantal are in shock, their laughter turning incredulous and when kristopher finally pulls away, the first thing you do is look at riley.

 

he’s watching intensely. expressionlessly. you can’t tell if he’s angry or not but either way, it’s not your fault. kristopher assaulted _you,_ not that it was honest to god assault or that you didn’t want it in the first place. but you didn’t mean to want it. you hope riley isn’t pissed, but judging by the fourth shot he knocks back, you figure he has other things on his mind.

 

“what happens if i get him a fourth time?” kristopher asks gruffly, his eyes never leaving you. you’re out of breath. you push him off of you and josie coos loudly.

 

“you have to fuck. and let us watch.”

 

“if you get him a fifth time, you have to go to the closet together,” chantal answers honestly and kristopher finally leans back on his haunches, placing his hands on his thighs and drawing in a deep breath. his eyes never leave you.

 

it was a threat.

 

the whole thing was a threat. a competition. he was telling you he’ll stop at nothing - _nothing_ \- to own you. to let you know riley will never be yours. that you’ll have kristopher before you have riley. that’s what it was. and kristopher is a secret genius. you can’t believe it.

 

“go, kiran.”

 

you jar yourself from your thoughts and sit up, dizzy. you look around like a moron for several seconds before your eyes land on the beer bottle and you roll over to it angrily. you spin it.

 

josie.

 

so you kiss josie. she kisses kristopher and kristopher, of course, kisses riley. riley kisses kristopher again and kristopher kisses chantal before josie says finally everyone got to go - throwing a knowing look to kristopher, who got to go _several times_ \- and puts the beer bottle away.

 

“who wants to play suck and blow?”

 

you groan - and so does everyone else. josie laughs to herself and chantal tells her to grow up as you stand to your feet shakily and look towards the kitchen. you’re disturbingly sober. you need to have more alcohol in your system after all that. you’re so shaken from kristopher’s lips and body that you _must_ calm down and alcohol sounds like the fastest route. you wonder if you can snatch some here and disappear into your room. maybe you can get drunk and pass out before anyone will even notice you’re gone. maybe they’ll all start to make out. that usually makes it easy for you to fucking vanish from their radar.

 

but it doesn’t happen. you pour yourself some rum and drink it straight. you wince a bit and pour yourself some more and start searching for the soda. it’s in the fridge which you suppose is for the best but when you close the door, riley is standing right next to you and you jump.

 

“jesus.”

 

“sorry,” he says. “i keep spooking you today.”

 

“it’s fine,” you mumble, latching the fridge door and heading back to pour your drink. “do you need something?”

 

“kristopher’s a really good kisser, huh?”

 

you almost drop the soda. is this it? is this the confrontation?

 

“it’s not my fault,” you say. “he’s the one who went for it.”

 

“i’m not mad, i’m just saying. he’s a really good kisser, yeah?”

 

“i don’t know,” you lie. he was amazing. you uncap the soda and pour it into your glass. “i was a little too shocked to judge.”

 

“it’s just… you usually remember your first kiss with someone.”

 

you almost overpour the soda because the words hit you like a ton of bricks.

 

you certainly remember your first kiss with _riley._ really well. _so_ well that you can still jack off to it a lot.

 

“i guess so…”

 

“so i’m just saying,” he shrugs. you don’t want to turn to him. you can’t look him in the eye. you slowly finish pouring and put the cap on as languishly as you can. but then he says it: “that _was_ your first kiss with kristopher, right?”

 

you don’t fully comprehend the question at first. you just think _yeah, of course. why?_ but then it hits you. riley doesn’t believe that was the first time you kissed kristopher, which begs the question _when the fuck else would you have ever kissed kristopher?!_

 

you only knew him for a few months before he started dating riley and unless he thinks you’re keeping something within those months to yourself, riley is basically accusing you of being the other woman. with _kristopher._

 

you do turn to him. incredulously. you expect him to be angry but he actually won’t meet your eyes. he’s staring off to the side in embarrassment. it doesn’t make you any less livid.

 

“what the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

 

“i know,” he cringes. “i didn’t - i just -”

 

“when the _fuck_ would i have ever kissed your boyfriend and _why?_ that’s way more important. _why_ would i ever kiss your boyfriend? i have no attraction to him at all, first of all,” you lie. up until now though, you really hadn’t felt attracted to him at all, so you’re only half-lying. “and even if i did, you think i’d do that to you?”

 

that’s what really angers you. that riley could imagine you stooping so low as to fuck his boyfriend. that you’d be capable of something so heinous. such an intense betrayal. you’re _livid._

 

“i just-”

 

“you need to go home and spend some time with your mom,” you say. his head snaps to you. he’s more curious than angry yet and you don’t plan on changing that. “you’re really getting crazy here and it’s because you’re worried about her. why’d you even come here this weekend when you have that going on at home?”

 

“hey,” he snaps. “you don’t know the whole story. i’ve been with her nonstop. i needed a second to myself.”

 

“a four day weekend,” you say. “you needed four whole days to get wasted and accuse your best friend of fucking your boyfriend?”

 

“i’m not _accusing_ you- i just- look, what i’m trying to get at here is…”

 

but he won’t finish his sentence. he’s not trying to get at anything and you know it. you shake your head and sigh at him.

 

“you’re drunk and jealous but i’m not the one who advanced. he was.”

 

“exactly.”

 

“what?”

 

“he’s the one who kissed you. twice. once when he didn’t have to.”

 

“he was being a jackass.”

 

“was he?”

 

you look at him curiously. what _is_ riley trying to get at? you soften a bit as your anger gives way to interest.

 

“i thought so. what else would he be doing?”

 

“what if i’m not enough for him anymore?”

 

you hate yourself. you really do. you probably hate yourself more than you even realize, if robert is any indication, but this is so much different. you use robert to hate yourself. but hearing riley’s despair over kristopher fills you with joy. it makes you feel full. so full that you _hate yourself for enjoying that you get to witness what could be the beginning of the end-_

 

what if he’s not enough for kristopher? and what if kristopher is too boring for him?

 

it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. in fact, their insecurities sort of line up and make for the perfect breakup. minimal hurt, next to no baggage for the next relationship. there’s a bird thrumming his wings against his cage in your chest. or maybe that’s just your heart. beating. racing. thrumming.

 

you take a deep breath. his face is crestfallen. it makes you happy. _you hate yourself._

 

“what the hell do you mean?”

 

“what if he’s kissing you because he’s bored of kissing me?”

 

the bird stops thrumming. really, they just need to communicate better. riley isn’t terrible at talking about his feelings so you worry he might. he might tell kristopher he’s scared and kristopher will, with incredible relief, tell him _he’s_ scared, and they’ll laugh together because they were both just being silly and this is going to work out after all.

 

“maybe he is.”

 

you can’t believe you say it. riley’s eyebrows raise and he clutches his chest.

 

“how?”

 

“because he’s nuts,” you shrug. stop. _stop this._ stop letting riley be so heartbroken. why are you so terrible? why are you like this? _comfort him._ “but if he’s going to cheat then who c-”

 

“cheat?”

 

“well… yeah?” you ask. “isn’t that cheating? kissing someone else?”

 

“oh,” riley says. “no, that’s okay. i mean, if it’s in front of the other, it’s not cheating.”

 

“what?”

 

“i mean, that’s what we decided. i don’t mind if he kisses you as long as i know he’s doing it.”

 

you’re a little baffled but you try to flow with it.

 

“then why do you think he’d do it because he’s bored? he’s just doing it in front of you so it doesn’t count as cheating.”

 

“i hope so,” riley murmurs, turning away and looking at the floor. “what if he really does think i’m getting boring?”

 

tell him. tell him he doesn’t. tell him he’s worried riley finds _him_ boring. _do it. stop being such an asshole._

 

“then you move on to someone else,” you tell him, finally pushing the soda bottle away and gripping your drink tight. you down half of it and grit your teeth. you hate yourself. _you hate yourself and you should. you deserve to hate yourself._ “he’s clearly moving on.”

 

“what?!”

 

“to me,” you say with a grin, turning over your shoulder to look at riley. when he realizes you’re joking, he actually smiles too.

 

“well, he’ll have to fight me first,” he says. “no way kristopher’s dumping me _and_ taking my best friend.” you swallow the rest of your drink in one, anxious gulp. “thanks. thanks for letting me be worried for a second. you’re always there for me.”

 

“no problem,” you say. you let him leave after that; you let him think that’s true. that you’re always there for him. but you’re not. not really. you’re there for your own best interests.

 

you text robert.

 

_how do you feel about bdsm?_ you ask. that’s basically what you already do anyway, but maybe it’s about time you actually got punished for the shit you do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working on formatting issues. I just like to post because I'm a sucker for feedback, not that I'm getting much - so feel free to leave a comment if you're reading this and would be so inclined!


	5. to be forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a punishment. just like you asked for. exactly what you asked for. to be punished for your sins. you needed some sort of reprieve of your crimes against humanity - or riley’s humanity, at least - and you made the grave mistake of asking robert of all people for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw dubcon, blowjobs, generally problematic sex, cancer mention

 

your apartment is exactly the way you left it and for some reason that’s always surprising to you. you put your bag down next to the front door and check your phone. you have an hour and a half before robert will be here so you flop onto the couch and bury your head into a pillow.

 

you scream. you scream as loud as you can into the pillow. you feel lightheaded when you’re finished screaming and take a deep breath. kristopher smiled at you as you got out of the car, his head turned over his shoulder from the driver’s seat as riley unbuckled his belt to give you a hug goodbye. but it wasn’t a sincere smile.

 

it was one of _kristopher’s_ and it fills you with such rage and confusion. and guilt. lots and lots of guilt. mostly because the ride home was silent and you know it’s because the two of them are anxious about the relationship and you could have fixed it. at the very least, you shouldn’t have delighted in seeing riley so upset last night. you can’t get it out of your head. ‘ _maybe he is._ maybe kristopher _is_ bored of you.’ maybe you _will_ break riley’s heart. maybe you’ll keep it to yourself that kristopher’s terrified of the exact same thing. maybe you’ll let riley suffer because you’d have no problem watching him do that if there’s even the slightest possibility that he and kristopher will end things, not that he’ll jump right into bed with you.

 

then again, knowing riley, that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.

 

you pass out. you pass out so hard that you almost don’t hear the door ninety minutes later. so hard that you forget where you are when you wake up groggily in your own living room. hard enough that you just sit there like a fart as robert continues banging at your door. he sounds eager. you’re really regretting this meet up now. you just want to take a shower and go to sleep. you have work in the morning. so does he, for fuck’s sake. you know he didn’t just spend a weekend at a lake house getting drunk with a boy who will never love him back, but everyone should feel as tired as you feel right now just in order to let you sleep.

 

“‘m coming,” you bleat out wearily, forcing yourself on your own personal oregon trail to the door. you hope to christ you die of dysentery before you get there.

 

“hey, can w-”

 

that’s all you can get out before robert is on you, slamming the door shut with his foot and ramming you across the room over to your dining room table. he bends you over it before you can register anything is even happening and he’s got his hands on your belt by the time you realize you want it to stop.

 

“hey! don’t-”

 

“shut up.”

 

you do. you shut up. you shut the fuck up because he spits it out so venomously that it shocks you; and not just the tone but the words themselves, too. he’s never told you to shut up before and you don’t know what to do. you freeze for a few moments and he has your belt undone and through the loops by the time you snap back to reality.

 

“i said _don’t-”_

 

“i don’t care what you said,” robert tells you as he throws your belt to the ground. he goes for the fly of your jeans. “you don’t get any say in this. this is a punishment. i say what happens. you take it.”

 

a punishment. just like you asked for. _exactly_ what you asked for. to be punished for your sins. you needed some sort of reprieve of your crimes against humanity - or riley’s humanity, at least - and you made the grave mistake of asking _robert_ of all people for it. you were a little drunk when you did it. drunk from the alcohol and from the kissing. the head-spinning, stomach-churning, heart-racing kissing. with everyone except riley.

 

“i don’t _want tha-”_

 

“i don’t care what you want.”

 

“fucking me isn’t a punishment, it’s just getting what you want.”

 

“who said i was fucking you?”

 

with that, he twirls you around and grips your jeans. he yanks them down and you gasp alittle when the air hits your bare thighs. he’s going so fast you have no time to react. you’re in your boxer briefs now, ass pressed against the table behind you as you reach back to grip it for strength. you’re still rebalancing yourself when your briefs are pulled down too and you’re standing in a pool of your clothes which soon includes your t-shirt and undershirt. you don’t know how you got here so quickly. you were dead asleep two minutes ago. how are you naked and shaking in your own living room now?

 

“robert, i don’t-”

 

now you’re naked, shaking and on your knees after being shoved down harshly. so harshly that it makes the walls shake and you wince heavily. you start to groan in pain but find quickly that you cannot. because something’s in your way.

 

robert’s dick is on your lips and in your mouth before you can move; his hand is in your hair and he’s already shoving your head up and down before you can cry out in pain. his cock quickly starts hitting the back of your throat and that god awful sucking noise fills your living room. it’s so loud and disgusting you swear your neighbors will hear. it’s so loud and disgusting you swear _riley_ can hear. and now he knows. he knows who you are. he knows _what_ you are.

 

you’re kind of a slut, aren’t you? because you kind of like this right now. this revolting act. it’s sort of making you hard. like the whore you are.

 

you’re still trying to resist when he shoves his dick all the way down your throat and you pull your head back after choking so hard that he rips some hair out. you cough and sputter, gripping your throat and leaning toward the floor but his dick is back in you before you can even throw up. you feel tears pool in the corner of your eyes and can’t tell if you’re actually crying or if it’s just all the pressure in your head right now. a little bit of both, probably.

 

“why are you hard, kiran?”

 

now you’re definitely crying. a soft sob escapes you and your full mouth. this would be a lot easier if you weren’t so turned on.

 

“i haven’t even _really_ started punishing you yet and you’re already half hard? oh, my. no wonder you asked me to do it. you like it. well, i’ll have to come up with something you _really_ don’t like. otherwise it’s not really a punishment, is it?”

 

you sob again and then start crying in earnest as he starts slamming in and out of your mouth. you _don’t_ like this. but he’s just doing what you asked, isn’t he? you agreed to this. you asked him to discipline you and so you’re here trying not to gag on his cock as he gives you what you want. _how do you feel about bdsm?_ you’d asked him. _I feel good about anything as long as it’s with you,_ he’d replied.

 

you’d asked if he was more of a dom or a sub and he said what do _you_ think, which clearly meant he’d like to dominate your ass any day of the week. you’d rolled your eyes and said, _i need to be punished. don’t ask any questions. can you do that?_

 

 _I’ll do anything for you,_ he answered.

 

don’t ask any questions. what you _meant_ was you weren’t going to tell him _why_ you needed to be punished. not that he didn’t need to ask any questions the second he showed up. not that he was allowed to just ream your mouth like this. you need that thing to eat. and breathe. and kiss kristopher three times in two minutes.

 

“don’t worry baby,” he says as he continues rolling his hips. “when i’m done here, when i come all over this pretty face, when i have you on your knees and exhausted and covered in sweat and cum, then all will be forgiven. you can move on with a clean conscience.”

 

you weren’t doing much in the first place, but when you hear that, you stop. your jaw relaxes and your eyes actually travel up to his, meeting them in time.

 

you’ll be forgiven. you can _be_ forgiven. you can do your penance and all will be alright. those terrible things you did? the universe will balance them out. this horrible, wretched experience is what you get for putting riley through something so terrible. it doesn’t make it _okay;_ you still have to promise a higher power you'll never do it again, but at least things can reach an equilibrium. tit for tat. this for that.

 

robert must see in your eyes that you’re having an epiphany. he stops thrusting and instead reaches down with his pointer finger and lifts your chin up, dick still planted firmly inside.

 

“you want that? you want to be forgiven?”

 

you nod. it’s the only thing you can do. you nod and stick your tongue out under his shaft to let him know you’re in it. you’re here now. please. please forgive kiran and all will be well.

 

he fucks your face thoroughly, making sure to pull every kind of sob and moan he can from your throat before coming _hard_ down it, coating it in salty milkiness that makes you retch again. it feels like it’s in your nose by the time he pulls out, ropey strands of semen trailing from his dick to your mouth.

 

then he crouches down and looks you in the eyes.

 

“now, kiran.” he pauses, making sure he has your attention. you’re spitting up cum and crying. he definitely has your attention. “i need you to swallow all of it. i need you to take down all the cum before you can be forgiven.”

 

for some reason, that’s too much. not the request itself- for fucks sake, you almost have most of it down anyway - but the _way_ he asks. like your dad. like your fucking dad.

 

“please,” you heave, trying to rub the tears away. “i - i just -”

 

“come on, kiran,” he says, reaching up with two fingers and scooping the cum from your lips. he pushes it inside your mouth. “now put your lips around it.”

 

“r-rober-robert-”

 

you can’t get words out. you’re such a wreck.

 

“come on, kiran.”

 

you try to breathe in a bit more but finally wrap your lips around his finger and suck the cum down, careful to do a thorough job of cleaning robert’s skin.

 

you’re a mess when robert stands up and tilts your head up by chin to look you in the eye again. you have tears all over your face and snot running down your nose.

 

“you did very good kiran,” he says. “you’re forgiven.”

 

that’s when you _really_ burst into tears. thank god riley can’t see you now. just thinking about him makes you bawl louder. just thinking about his perfect skin and beautiful face and glorious smile. he exists. he exists out there, somewhere, right now, on the same earth as you, breathing the same air as you and you have to admit he deserves it far more than you do.

 

you don’t deserve air at all. not after this.

 

the worst part is robert doesn’t want to leave. he wants to hold you and let you wail but you yell at him to get out, to leave you alone, to let you live, and he admonishes you, tells you it’s rude to use someone for your own gain and chuck them once you’re done.

 

“you _said_ you didn’t want anything but the physical,” you growl between huffs. “ _you_ didn’t want the emotions. i _told_ you we’d fuck and you’d leave, that’s it. we fucked, now leave. go. get out of here.”

 

“so i get to absolve you of your sins and that’s it? that’s the thanks i get?”

 

you scrabble for your briefs, eager to kick his ass, but he’s gone before you can get them all the way on. he leaves in disappointment rather than genuine anger, but you pretend you instilled enough fear in him to make him run. you pretend you have any fucking power whatsoever. any power at all.

 

you don’t think. you don’t think at all. you don’t let a single thought pass through your brain. you just grab your phone. you want _riley._ you want to hear his voice. you want to hear him tell you everything is okay; you don’t want him to know about robert but you _do_ want him to know about robert and not mind. maybe even feel the slightest bit sorry for you. not so much that it’s embarrassing; that you’re pitiful; that you hate yourself and want to die. but enough to feel how much he cares - maybe you just want him jealous, not that you have any reason to think he ever would be.

 

that’s the thing about riley. he flirts with you. he’s really made it clear he might hook up with you if he’s ever single. he wouldn’t before because you were just too young - too much his protégé and younger brother- but now you’re 23 and he’s 27 and it doesn’t matter as much. but he’s never been _jealous_ that other people get to kiss you.

 

he’s never been jealous the way _you’re_ jealous. he’s never sipped his beer on the couch while watching you over the rim, seeing you in the dark corner with a man three times your size, your eyes flitting around nervously as he presses his hands against your waist. he’s never looked at you while someone else is making you feel good; he’s never seen your face when it curls into a subtle pleasure that you’re trying to hide. he’s never caught sight of you doing your best to keep it a secret that you’re getting _touched_ at this fucking party, that all these people are walking around and you’re in the corner close to orgasm because some _guy_ knows how to use his hands.

 

that wasn’t even kristopher. that was some other fucking guy whose name was like logan or trevor or something stupid, even stupider than _kiran._ he used to do it a lot really, let strange hands roam all over him in public and you could always see it on his face that he wasn’t sure he should. he didn’t fully appreciate it, but it must have felt so good when they cupped his dick and rubbed that he couldn’t do anything to stop it. he couldn’t bring himself to make it go away.

 

that’s who you want right now. the guy who’s never felt that way about you. but he’s felt plenty of other things for you. he’s _reserved_ things for you- emotions and energy and so much more, he’s simply never _loved_ you like that. that’s who you want.

 

“hello?”

 

“hey,” you nearly gasp, so grateful the phone was answered. you don’t say anything.

 

“what’s wrong?”

 

he knows you so well.

 

“nothing, dad. i just promised to call you once i got home.”

 

“you sound troubled.”

 

“nope,” you smile, calming down instantly. that’s the thing about riley. you want him. but only your dad’s voice will calm you down right now. “i’m fine. just wanted to talk to you.”

 

“okay,” he relents. “i have some free time. how was your weekend?”

 

“it was alright.”

 

“how’s riley?”

 

“he’s okay but he said his mom had a lump or something. she might have some sort of cancer.”

 

“oh, jesus.”

 

“yeah. so he was sort of using the weekend as some time away. i’m sure he’s dealing with that a lot.”

 

“i’m sure.” your dad always liked riley. your mom despised him. she didn’t accept that you were gay; she was definitely never going to accept your next door neighbor was trans. she thought he was a bad influence and to be fair, in many respects, he was. she wanted you to be a boring teacher’s pet goody-two-shoes but riley wanted you to be exciting and slutty and fun. you think you fell somewhere in the middle. “is he still dating that one guy?”

 

“yes,” you say, trying not to sound bitter. one thing your dad doesn’t know about you is how you feel about riley. no one knows about it. he would be surprised if you ended up together but probably not unhappy. you’d be shocked, though. “kristopher.”

 

“yes, kristopher. i met him once, right?”

 

“yeah,” you say, crawling under your dining room table. your dad doesn’t know you’re basically naked and curling into a ball. riley. _riley._ “he was there when you came over for christmas two years ago. i think. maybe three.”

 

“he was a nice guy,” he offers. _he likes riley._ so of course he thinks it’s good that he’s dating a nice man. he probably hopes they get married. how dare he betray you like that. he thinks you’re as happy as he is. “i hope his mom is okay. when will you know?”

 

“i guess sometime this week,” you say. you don’t really want to talk about riley, though. not unless it’s about your wedding. a wedding that’s actually happening too, not just the vague one in your head. “how are you doing? i’m sorry i was weird when we last talked.”

 

“that’s okay, i remember being young and drunk.” he laughs lightly and you smile to yourself. time is all your dad needs to get over things. most things, at least. he doesn’t remember how irritated he was with you or how frustrating you became. he just knows you were drinking with friends and he interrupted you. “i’m doing okay. i almost burned the place down earlier today.”

 

“how’d you do that?”

 

“your mom always did the cooking is how i did it,” he says. “i left the stove on and a pot holder glove thing fell. it caught on fire and started spreading while i was in the bathroom.”

 

 _“what?”_ you ask. “dad, that sounds really bad.”

 

“it was!” he shouts. “i have to have some of the kitchen repaired.”

 

 _“dad,”_ you say. “that’s the kind of thing you lead with.”

 

“why? no one got hurt.”

 

“but it - but it’s really serious!”

 

“i kind of forgot it happened.”

 

“dad.”

 

“i got far enough in life to have a kid, i think i can handle things alone.”

 

you know what he _meant_ was he’s made it this far so he can take care of himself, but it’s supremely sad to hear him remind you that he’s all alone. hell, _you’re_ all alone. maybe you should move in with your dad. then you imagine what it would be like to have robert skull fucking you with your dad in the next room over and your eyes go wide. the thought alone is enough to make you shudder.

 

“do you want to come over for dinner this week?”

 

“my kitchen isn’t _destroyed,_ it’s just a li-”

 

“no, i’m just asking,” you interrupt. “do you want to do dinner this week?”

 

“oh,” he says brightly. he seems to consider it for a moment. “well, sure. what day?”

 

“whenever. i’m free all week.”

 

“how about wednesday?”

 

“that sounds good,” you smile. you love your dad. you can admit he wasn’t _always_ there for you - he didn’t know what to do when you came out and he _really_ didn’t know what to do when your mom would hit you - but he did what he could and he never kept it a secret that he loved you. you were - are - his entire world. all he ever wanted was to fall in love and have kids to raise with his partner. he didn’t care if he ended up with a man, a woman or someone else - he didn’t care if _you_ ended up a man, woman or otherwise. he just wanted people to share his life with. he wanted good people to surround him. unfortunately, you get the feeling he was the only truly good person in his life. his parents abandoned him when he was four and he bounced around foster homes until he was eighteen. he got a job at a grocery store until he could afford college. he got a degree in engineering and now he’s well off and successful - far more than you are - and all of this is basically to say that your dad is your hero. no questions asked.

 

he makes you feel better and you’re able to fall asleep that night. you’re able to sleep on your back peacefully - no apnea, no paralysis, no terrors - and no dreams of riley, pleasant or otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter than usual but we can finally move on with our lives and get off this fucking labor day weekend arc. as always, comments are appreciated :)


	6. positive nihilism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone out there is doing more than you are. someone out there matters so much more. not because they’re better than you. but simply because they don’t call up robert when they’re depressed and ask him to come over and fuck him into the mattress. fuck him until he can’t breathe. can’t speak. can’t give a fuck about not mattering whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw mentions of child abuse, sexual content, conversations about parental and sexy spankings, i think that's it???

 

 

it’s one of those nights you wish you could’ve ignored it. you wish you could’ve pushed it aside. if only you’d gone for a run or found something to clean. organized your pantry. done a puzzle. fuck.  _ fuck.  _ now you’re laying naked in your own bed sheets and trying not to cry as robert pounds into you. 

 

you just started  _ thinking,  _ those kinds of insignificant thoughts about how this all might be pointless and nothing happens at the end. so why not be happy and do what you want while you’re alive? but what you want is riley. what would make you happiest while you’re alive is exactly what’s killing you slowly. sending you to an early grave.

 

why can’t you matter? it’s not that you  _ don’t.  _ it’s that you  _ can’t.  _ it’s that other people matter more and sometimes they’re not even better people than you. your ceo matters more than you, the simple it worker who gets on his hands and knees under desks to fix computer and get perved on by wandering eyes. why is he more important than you are? why is he the star? why are you just the background character?

 

it’s your own fault. you could be doing something now.  _ really  _ doing something. but you’re laying here getting fucked, whining high and, according to robert, irresistibly. you’re having sex - bad sex -  _ weird  _ sex - and someone else out there is at the climax of their adventure. someone else is fixing the broken world you’re a part of. someone else is having an epiphany - a  _ real  _ epiphany, and not just  _ god i wonder if it’s possible to fake an orgasm if i steal some of his cum out of my own ass and smear it all over my cock.  _

 

someone out there is doing more than you are. someone out there matters so much more. not because they’re better than you. but simply because they don’t call up  _ robert  _ when they’re depressed and ask him to come over and fuck him into the mattress. fuck him until he can’t breathe. can’t speak. can’t give a fuck about not mattering whatsoever. 

 

“look at me.”

 

you cry out. 

 

“shut up.”

 

“always so mean to me,” robert breathes out gruffly, the sparse, wiry gray hair on his chest scritching against your bare one. “i think i like it.”

 

“hope so because it’s not changing,” you tell him angrily, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. your legs are up and wrapped around his lower back, arms connected around his shoulders and you don’t know why you’re holding onto him like this. as if he fucking matters. you accidentally let out a wail when you think about riley. robert looks down at you, far too close to your eyes for comfort, and quirks an eyebrow. 

 

“does it hurt?” 

 

“ _ no!”  _ you shout. “just keep going, christ!”

 

“what’s wrong, baby? why are you yelling?”

 

“because i want this over with.”

 

“why’d you call if you didn’t want this? i knew you were going to act this way.”

 

“why’d you come if you knew i didn’t really want it?”

 

“because  _ i  _ wanted it,” he grins as he shoves inside you and you gasp, arch your back and dig your fingernails into him. god, to be on the moon or exploring the deep sea. not only would you be doing something worthwhile but you’d also be anywhere but here. getting your ass absolutely reamed. sometimes you wonder what your dad would say about this. you know that’s fucked up but you can’t help it. would your dad still love you if he knew you had sex like this? would he feel bad for you? would he even care?

 

do you even matter to him?

 

of course your dad loves you. and he’d love you still even if he knew about this. he doesn’t want to know and you don’t want him to, either. but if he ever found out, he’d still think of you the same way. 

 

“i love it when you react.”

 

“shut up.”

 

“i love your nails in my skin. tells me you’re loving it.”

 

“i’m not.”

 

“then i’ll make you feel even better.”

 

with that, he grips your lower back and maneuvers you roughly, leveraging you against his thighs so that you’re leaning at an odd angle, the back of your head buried in your pillows and you legs draped on either side of his hips. he drives into you harshly and his dick rides upwards, right against your prostate and you let out a strangled sob. it feels so good that you try to keep your voice down but god you can’t, god you’re so meaningless and disgusting right now, sweaty and naked and vulnerable, curled toes and red cheeks and matted hair. you’re gonna come and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

 

it racks through you angrily, sending a violent shiver down your spine. god, you hate robert. but now he’s pulling out and patting your chest, cooing in your ear that you felt as good as ever and he’ll never understand why you let him fuck you but he’s the luckiest man in the world. he settles in next to you and you start crying. as usual. you’re not sobbing, just letting the tears flow freely down your face and onto the pillow. you’re gritting your teeth and beg yourself not to say it. you bargain with yourself that you’ll call riley or your dad or someone, maybe even josie or chantal, as long as you don’t say it to  _ robert.  _

 

“does any of this matter to you?”

 

his head springs up. you almost never talk after sex unless it’s to tell him to get out. he’s surprised. pleasantly so. 

 

“any of what?”

 

“how do you think of what we do?” you’re staring at the ceiling as he fingers away your tears. you’d pull away but it’s pointless. you’re talking, there’s nowhere for you to go. “do you find this fulfilling?”

 

“more than anything else in my life.”

 

nothing has ever made you feel worse. more hopeless. so fucking  _ insignificant.  _ nothing has ever made you feel more like you’re just being laughed at by some cosmic energy that’s forcing you into this quiet nihilism. 

 

“why?”

 

“because you’re beautiful,” he says. “and you let me inside you. you may not love me and i may not love you but goddamn are you beautiful, in more ways than one.”

 

“what does that mean?”

 

“it means you’re someone i’d like to show off.”

 

why your flaccid dick responds to that, you'll never understand. 

 

“show me off?”

 

“it’s not our arrangement but if it were, i’d do it every day. i’d take you everywhere. i’d make sure everyone knew you were mine.”

 

you listen to your own breathing as you consider how much you like what robert just said. you’d like to be shown off. you know what that means because you often think the same thing about riley. if riley rosario deigned to date you, god, you’d make sure the whole world knew it. 

 

are you riley’s robert? are you the creepy guy who’s too in love with him? who’s never going to get over this crush and will never stop thinking about him?

 

“kiran?”

 

“what?”

 

“would you like me to show you off?”

 

you don’t answer immediately. 

 

“no.”

 

“are you lying?”

 

“of course i am,” you spit. “get out of my house.”

 

he doesn’t. he puts his arms around your waist and falls asleep as you sit there, eyes trained on the stucco above you as you keep thinking about it: you’d like to be important. just once.

 

the next day at work is just as bad. robert corners you in the hallway on the second floor, where no one is going to find you. he rubs against you and you smirk at him, rubbing your hand around his chest torturously as he groans in frustration that he can’t take his dick out and watch your pretty lips go to town on it. 

 

“the way they curl up into a little smile on the sides,” he whispers, tracing your mouth with his finger. “the way they point at the tips right here on top… they’re so full and round and they get so red when you’re drooling around my cock…”

 

“you’ll never find someone as good at blowjobs as me.”

 

“it kills me.”

 

“hope you appreciate it now.”

 

“believe me, i do. every time i touch you i pray it won’t be for the last time.”

 

“you just keep getting lucky, huh?”

 

he’s got your knees buckling at this point, he’s so far on top of you. but he starts to kiss you instead of continuing the conversation and you don’t know which one you’d hate more. at least he’s not saying anything ridiculous when he’s got his tongue halfway down your throat. 

 

“you’re my little prince. my god. the boy i worship.”

 

ugh. you take it back. that might be the  _ most  _ ridiculous thing he’s ever said. 

 

when he gets off you he says he wants you to jerk him off in the bathroom people never go in to other than to shit and you refuse. you tell him never at work and he disappears to masturbate or something, you’re sure. 

 

that kills you, too. masturbating so desperately. this is why you don’t read books or play games or watch movies when you’re especially depressed. all you can do is read about fictional people doing worthy things. but all you can think about is jacking off alone in the bathroom at work. when will you be worthy? when will all this generic shit end and when will the important stuff start? where are all your revelations? what are your dreams? it’s not to sit at your computer and consider that there’s a guy in the upstairs stall jerking off because of you. and it’s not to feel a little good about that. oh god, is this how you matter? if only your dream were to become jerk off material for robert. 

 

he doesn’t make it any easier when he puts in what you know is a bogus ticket just so you’ll come over and see him, then insist you get on your knees in front of him to fix the tower of his computer.  _ “network connectivity problems aren’t an issue with hardware, you dolt,”  _ you’d said.  _ “what  _ is  _ a hardware issue? because i need to get you on your hands and knees right now or i’ll lose my mind,”  _ he’d replied. you rolled your eyes and left. 

 

he’s staring at you from across the office now and you’re  _ positive  _ someone’s going to notice sooner or later. you don’t know how this office would react. some people would mind their business. you like those people. you know a couple would be disgusted with your being gay, a couple would be disgusted with your dating a man as old as robert, and another few would be disgusted that you’re having sex at all. your boss probably wouldn’t care that much. that’s all that really matters, except the fact that your entire reputation would be ruined. it would be better to say you’re dating him because then at least it seems somewhat romantic.  _ “nah, i just call him up when i’m experiencing existential dread and that deep-rooted fear that i’m the most boring person on planet earth and he fucks me until i forget,”  _ doesn’t quite have that pure and loving undertone to it.

 

sometimes you think about your dad during sex. you don’t think about him sexually. you just think you’d much rather be with him right now. and sometimes you think about your mom during work. you think about what she’d say about your situation, but you already know. she’d be in the disgusted couple, only she’d be disgusted by you as a whole human being. sleeping with someone your dad’s age? that sounds like what homos do. she could never even call you a faggot. it was always  _ homo.  _

 

there was the time she called you a slut but you try desperately to keep that memory out of your head at all times. you close your eyes at your desk and concentrate really hard on something you like. something that makes you happy. 

 

it certainly isn’t kristopher’s smirking face that cheers you up but that’s what you’re greeted with when you show up on his and riley’s doorstep that night with a nice bottle of wine. you’d put a sweater vest over your work button up so you didn’t look too fancy, but kristopher is still wearing his work clothes too so he looks just as nice as you do. riley pops his head out of the kitchen to greet you and you can tell he’s in a t-shirt and shorts. 

 

“here,” you say, shoving the wine into kristopher’s hands. kristopher takes it and shuts the door behind you without a word. 

 

“i’m glad you texted,” riley calls from the kitchen. you stand in the doorway and watch him flit from the stove to the sink. for cooking his own food so rarely, riley is fairly good at it. he’s a bit of a perfectionist, though. “i wanted to make this pasta bake all week but we can never eat it all and it's not the best reheated.”

 

you’re about to reply when kristopher catches your eye. he’s at the dining table to your right, waving the wine bottle back and forth. you frown at him in confusion until he puts the bottle down on it’s side and spins it slowly, purposefully, until it’s pointing at you and when you register what he’s doing, your heart skips a beat. you’re not sure what your face does but you know you’re immediately conflicted. angry at the memory but excited at the thought. 

 

then he smiles and blows you a kiss. you know your face is flushing, half because you’re embarrassed and half because despite all his flaws, kristopher is really handsome and a  _ really good kisser.  _ you despise that you know that, that you know how kristopher kisses better than you do riley. you hate him for kissing you but now that you’re thinking about it again, you find the memory… kind of pleasant. 

 

he gives you that little smirk and says softly, “just joking around.” you seethe at him, forgetting that riley can see you. 

 

“what’s wrong?”

 

“nothing,” you lie quickly when you realize you were caught. “ankle hurts.”

 

“that’s because you run too much,” riley says as he turns back to the stove, apparently satisfied with your answer. “you like the runner’s body and god knows i do too but it’s not actually good for you.”

 

“no, i should prescribe to the riley rosario diet, yeah? liquor and pasta and ice cream. with a workout that consists of sex and getting winded when you walk up the stairs.”

 

riley throws you a grin over his shoulder. 

 

“the sex part isn’t so bad,” he says, his voice lilting in a way that tells you an insult is coming. you can’t help but grin, too. “you should try it sometime.”

 

“ha ha,” you say. “classic ‘kiran is a virgin’ joke.”

 

“but you should have sex more often,” riley offers. “might make you less tense physically.”

 

“you think sex will cure my ankle?”

 

“i do,” riley nods as he turns and wipes his hands on a towel hanging from the oven door. then he approaches you and squeezes your cheeks with greasy palms. his forehead touches yours even though he has to get on his tiptoes to do it. “it cured my depression.”

 

“no, a mix of aripiprazole and bupropion cured your depression,” you say quietly. “and it’s not cured it’s just under control.”

 

riley pulls away abruptly and looks you up and down. 

 

“how do you know my medications better than i do?”

 

“because i had to fight with the pharmacist that time you got sick. like a year ago. she asked what else you were on and i had to commit it to memory in order to tell her so now it’s taking up precious space in my head. i could use that for other things. like recipes and sports trivia.”

 

“and sex positions,” riley says with a flirtatious eyebrow raise as he turns and leaves the kitchen. he takes the wine from kristopher and looks at it. “is this really nice? do i need to decant it?”

 

“it’s wine,” you shrug. “pour it in a coffee mug for all i care.”

 

“this is why we’re friends. i love the way you think,” riley says, pointing at you as he disappears into the kitchen again and leaving you with kristopher again. 

 

“so why’d you wanna do dinner tonight?” he asks, folding his arms and smiling. “riley said you sounded pretty down.”

 

“i dunno,” you shrug again. “just didn’t wanna eat alone tonight.”  _ because it was either this or invite an old man over to fuck me two nights in a row,  _ you don’t say. 

 

“any particular reason?”

 

“do i need a reason to see my friends?”

 

“of course not,” he says, grin widening as he unfolds his arms and starts to put out some silverware. “we’re glad you’re here.”

 

something snaps. maybe it’s the words or the tone or that fucking goddamn smile but something makes you absolutely  _ snap.  _

 

“yeah? gonna try to graduate to making out tonight?”

 

kristopher stills his movements and looks at you as if you just grew another head. 

 

“what?”

 

“or wanna go straight to fucking?” you lower your voice so riley doesn’t hear. “you wanna get me alone? you wanna be alone? i can make it happen.”

 

kristopher puts down the silverware solemnly, watching his own hand as he does it and then presses that flat against the table. you feel he’s gearing up for something but what, you have no idea. he finally raises his head to look you in the eye and he’s still fucking  _ smiling- _

 

“you wanna talk tough? fine. but i know you’ve been imagining it ever since i said it. have you touched yourself to the thought of being between us?”

 

his voice is so low and he  _ knows  _ that you’re too terrified to reply. so you don’t. you scowl and turn away towards the kitchen, opting instead to help riley pour the wine into what are three perfectly respectable white wine glasses. you don’t remember what specifies them as white wine glasses but god knows  _ kristopher has gotten to you so bad you can’t get him out of your head- _

 

“so how’s work?” riley asks, completely unaware of the tension rising between you and the lover he’s taken for four years. kristopher bites down hard on his lower lip after sipping his wine and looks at you seductively and you hate that it works. he places his fork in his mouth daintily, hardly even chews, swallows down lightly and smiles at you. he puts a finger to his lips to catch the slightest dribble of wine and pushes it back into his mouth, fingering his own skin to drive you wild. you try to answer riley’s questions. you really try. 

 

“everything is fine.”

 

“fine?”

 

“just fine.”

 

riley tells you his mother should hear back soon from the doctor and kristopher is gracious in those few moments and ceases his sensual onslaught. but once riley smiles and changes the subject, he’s back to heavy lidded eyes and lip curling smirks and you’re about to burst, only you don’t know if it’s out of anger or- some sort of pleasure. too  _ much  _ pleasure. you’ve already snapped once, you can’t do it again and especially not in front of riley. 

 

and kristopher is  _ wrong-  _ you  _ haven’t  _ thought about what he said, at least not while jacking off or anything. unfortunately, now you are. you are imagining it. you’re fantasizing here at dinner about kristopher’s hand on your chest, pulling you backwards into his own and ploughing you with his cock. like robert only  _ better.  _ because kristopher is sexy. and your age. you imagine what it must feel like to have a cock in your ass forcing  _ your  _ cock into an ass too- especially  _ riley’s  _ ass, which is when you stop imagining it. thinking about riley like that is too inappropriate, not that you don’t do it often on accident anyway. but he has the most incredible ass so it’s not entirely your fault. you’ve seen it quite a bit, mostly at halloween but sometimes when he’s ‘too drunk for pants,’ his words. you could spend an eternity finding the perfect words to describe riley’s body but you don’t have that kind of time. 

 

plus, like you said- it’s inappropriate. 

 

but you start to wonder why you have to be so appropriate when kristopher doesn’t. he’s pretty clearly been reveling in his lewdness which is embarrassing for you both. it makes him look immature and it reminds you just how undesirable you really are. because he’s joking. he isn’t serious. he doesn’t want to fuck you. he wants you to ask to be fucked so he can turn you down, laugh in your face, ask if you thought he was serious. he wants you to humiliate yourself. but you’re not that fucking dumb, which is why this isn’t going to end well for him either. 

 

you don’t realize riley had opened a third bottle of wine or that you were on your fourth glass until kristopher is offering you an after-dinner cognac and you’re accepting it. 

 

when you stand to help clean you wobble a bit. everything rushes to your head and it’s about 10pm on a tuesday but you’re at your best friend’s house drunk and focusing on breathing so hard that you can’t think about anything else. all there is is you and your plate that you practically licked clean. riley is such a good cook. 

 

he’s not a good baker though, and he and kristopher are just as drunk as you, so that’s how you end up on the floor of their living room with a package of oreos, a whole gallon of milk, three glasses, and a bottle of amaretto- kristopher was too drunk to find the cognac. with the way they drink, it could be anywhere. his words. 

 

“i don’t know what i’m gonna do if my mom is actually sick.”

 

you and kristopher both stare at riley with sad eyes. sad, drunk eyes. 

 

“i’m so sorry dude,” you offer. 

 

“it’s all i think about.”

 

“really?” kristopher asks. his tone catches your attention. there’s something he doesn’t know about riley. there are feelings riley isn’t sharing with him. 

 

“yeah.”

 

“if it were my mom i’d be the same.” kristopher sighs heavily after his statement and stares wistfully at the table. you laugh derisively. kristopher looks up at you. 

 

“maybe if it were my dad,” you say. that’s a lie. you would lose your mind if your mom had cancer, but your life wouldn’t change that much on the surface. if your mom died, your day-to-day life would remain the same. but the idea that you would never have any closure with her is what kills you. 

 

“you don’t care about your mama?” kristopher asks. riley puts his hand on kristopher’s wrist. 

 

“you know they don’t speak,” riley says. kristopher looks at him with drunk eyes for a moment and then closes them tightly. 

 

“forgot,” he mumbles. “sorry. i’d still worry.”

 

“i would,” you relent. “the point is i’m so sorry, riley. i’m sure it’s going to be okay, though. your mom is tough.”

 

“i forgive her for everything,” he says, clearly just keeping himself from crying. “even that time she spanked me.”

 

“she spanked you?” you ask in surprise. kristopher laughs. 

 

“you didn’t know this?” he asks with a smile. 

 

“no idea.”

 

“she said it wasn’t that i cried but that my voice cracked when i said i was sorry that she could never do it again. she used a slipper.”

 

“i had no idea she ever spanked you,” you say with a light laugh. 

 

“well, kristopher got it regularly.”

 

“not  _ regularly,”  _ he groans. “i was a good kid. but yeah my dad used the belt pretty good.”

 

“are you serious?”

 

“yeah and i can tell you right now, i will never do that to my kid. it didn’t fix anything and my sister’s more fucked up than ever.”

 

“that’s… fucked up.”

 

“it wasn’t so bad, i’m just never gonna do it.”

 

“me neither,” riley says. “whatever. but i don’t think it helps.”

 

“kiran’s better adjusted than either of us,” kristopher says. you raise an eyebrow. “and he - well, i just assumed his parents didn’t spank him.”

 

“you assume wrong,” riley tells him. you nod slowly. “his dad did it a few times.”

 

“oh?”

 

“the worst time was when he lifted me in the air over his knee because i was so small and i just flailed around. that was the only time he used something other than his hand and it was because my mom came in and handed him her hairbrush. but she used to hit me pretty hard anyway. like, closed fist. with her forearm. down my face and head. she really shoved me around.”

 

it’s not until you look up at kristopher’s face that you understand what you just said. you’re drunk. you would have never told him all of that. riley already knew but kristopher didn’t need to. 

 

then again, it’s a little nice to see the shocked frown on kristopher’s face. not because you enjoy a shocked kristopher, although you do, but because it validates you. 

 

you love your mom. you want her back. you want your mommy. but she abused you. when do you get to stop feeling bad for saying so?

 

“ _ that’s  _ fucked up,” kristopher says finally. you don’t reply. it turns a little awkward so riley shoves an oreo in his mouth. you feel bad for making things this way, but the  _ validation-  _ “almost as fucked up as riley still having a spanking kink anyway.”

 

“kris!” riley gasps. he spits out cookie as he shouts, spraying the table with crumbs. he covers his mouth and scowls at his boyfriend. “i don’t have a  _ kink,  _ i just- i just let you-”

 

why riley is suddenly so embarrassed about sex is beyond you but you don’t feel particularly interested in the subject. well, you do a little. riley’s ass over your lap is suddenly rooted in your brain, only it’s not over  _ yours,  _ it’s over  _ kristopher’s,  _ who’s sitting there smirking around his glass of amaretto. he’s just drinking it straight, which isn’t particularly difficult, but you took some soda with it and now kristopher is staring you down like the coward you are. 

 

“you just let me spank you,” kristopher finishes for his boyfriend. “it’s a lot different than when a parent does it.”

 

“gross,” you groan, downing half your drink and pulling a laugh from kristopher. “i don’t know why i’m surprised, though.”

 

“yeah,” kristopher says. “you got a spanking kink too, kiran?”

 

“no.”

 

“you sure?”

 

“yeah, i’m sure.”

 

“you’ve never been spanked during sex?”

 

“why would i be the one  _ being  _ spanked?”

 

“oh, wow,” kristopher says. “you think you wanna be the one on top?”

 

“kiran’s a switch, he’d do either,” riley says. you know he’s trying to turn the embarrassment on you. but it’s not going to work. 

 

“kiran, you’re so pale that i’d probably bruise you in ten seconds,” kristopher tells you. you shudder. 

 

_ “don’t  _ put that image in my head.”

 

“why? you afraid you’ll like it too much?”

 

“i’m leaving,” you say, not budging. “this is awful.”

 

“i’m just fucking with you two,” kristopher says, finishing off his drink. “you talk about sex all the time but suddenly this is where you draw the line?”

 

“it’s fine if i give out my own secrets, you’re not supposed to tell people about my sex life,” riley says, but his tone implies he’s already moved on and doesn’t care. 

 

“i was telling him about  _ my  _ sex life.”

 

“yeah, that’s always the problem,” riley says. “every sex question instantly becomes too personal because everyone knows who i’m doing it with.”

 

“so how often do you spank riley?” you ask, trying to sound like a joke but desperately curious. 

 

“don’t answer that.”

 

“i’m not gonna,” kristopher says. “but i’ll tell you that there’s no way he bruises as good as you do.”

 

you stare at kristopher, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. he thinks he’s really dominating you somehow but he has no idea that you’re storing this information away for later, when you and riley are drunk alone together. or maybe he does know. maybe he’s expecting you to. maybe he is pulling one over on you, but you suppose it would really fuck with him to give in, to let him win. 

 

“you want me across your lap right now?” you ask. “see firsthand how quick you can make me

bruise?”

 

it’s like when you were making out with the man weeks ago; riley sits like a lump, completely uninterested and unaware that you and kristopher are having a  _ moment,  _ a charged moment where your eyes lock and you both dare the other to back down. smiles spread across your faces and kristopher finally shrugs and looks away. 

 

“i don’t punish someone unless they deserve it,” he says, turning back to you. “have you been bad lately, kiran?”

 

riley snorts. 

 

“you can’t even imagine,” you tell him. kristopher’s smile widens. 

 

“i bet i can.”

 

“kiran you’re an angel, what on earth would you need to be punished for?” riley asks, his eyes still focused uninterestedly on the table as he twists an oreo apart. 

 

“what does he punish  _ you  _ for?” you ask. riley perks up. 

 

“for being a fucking brat,” kristopher says quickly. sincerely. “spanking and a blowj-”

 

_ “kris,”  _ riley says loudly.  _ “stop.” _

 

“sorry,” he mumbles. riley shakes his head. 

 

“i’m spanking  _ you  _ tonight,” riley says, licking the icing off the cookie idly. kristopher looks over at you with heavy-lidded eyes. 

 

“yeah, right.”

 

“you couldn’t fit him over your knee,” you say. 

 

“you’d fit over mine just as perfectly as riley does,” kristopher tells you. 

 

“you want me to blow you afterwards too?”

 

“depends,” he says. “how good are you?”

 

“kiran is good at blowies,” riley says. “that’s what i’ve heard.”

 

“as good as you?” kristopher asks. riley laughs. 

 

“god, no,” he says. “i’ve spent years making a name for myself. kiran’s good but he can’t usurp my throne that easy.”

 

“i gotta sleep,” you say. “this is ridiculous.”

 

“stay here tonight,” riley says seriously. “you’re way too drunk to drive home.”

 

you nod solemnly and finish your drink. riley is completely unimpressed with the direction the conversation took as he stands up and heads to the linen closet to grab a blanket and pillows. you have a few tshirts and some sweatpants here, so you’ll be able to sleep in something comfortable but you’ll have to head home in the morning to dress for work. you wouldn’t bother but robert would definitely notice you wearing the same shirt two days in a row. you can’t risk that. 

 

riley makes the guest bed for you and then disappears to take a shower. you’re sitting on the side of the bed, gulping down a huge glass of water and some vitamin c when kristopher shows up in the doorway, leaning against one shoulder and folding his arms. he smiles at you and you take a deep breath as you swallow the pill down hard. 

 

“what?”

 

“you think i’m joking around, don’t you, kiran?”

 

“what are you talking about?”

 

“you think i’m lying about wanting to fuck you.”

 

“you  _ are  _ lying. i thought you didn’t like white guys.”

 

“usually, but you’re the exception that proves the rule.”

 

you stop. everything sort of slows down around you as you consider the fact that  _ kristopher might not be lying.  _

 

“i don’t care if you want to fuck with me, just do it in the morning,” you say, turning to the bed and starting to unbutton your slacks. “i’m too tired.”

 

“that’s what i’m saying. i’m not fucking with you.”

 

“what?”

 

“i wanna fuck you, kiran.”

 

you turn to him slowly, your hands still on your fly. 

 

“so maybe this isn’t the best time to take off my pants?”

 

kristopher rolls his eyes and his smile widens. he turns and goes, leaving you there with your hands on your dick and eyebrows up. riley asks what’s wrong when he walks by with wet hair to see you frozen in place and you can’t speak. you shake your head and take your pants down. riley laughs and walks to his bedroom and you can hear him and kristopher laughing before they quiet down. you wait for the sounds of fucking but they never come. they must fall asleep. they must pass right out, which sounds good to you too. instead, you grab your cock and can’t figure out if you come to the thought of fucking riley or being over kristopher’s knee first. what you do know is that you’re sick of this. when do you get to matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hit 100 views which is batty! but comments are still appreciated because i've gotten none so i worry it's just people reading to make fun of me Dx


	7. three beats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your fight-or-flight kicks in except your body chooses neither. it decides instead to go into shock. you grab his wrists but you don’t pull him off out of the sheer fear that he’ll start to tighten instead. you just stand there, pressed against the counter behind you, staring into robert’s eyes and not daring to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw sexual themes including harassment in the workplace

 

_name. age. location. top or bottom. status._

 

“kiran. 23. downtown. verse. neg.”

 

“are you filling out a grindr?”

 

“yes.”

 

“why?”

 

“well,” you say with a loud sigh, sitting back on the couch and looking over at your best friend. “i’m horny, riley. and i’m in my prime. and _you’re_ never going to sleep with me, so i have to move on.”

 

riley grins at you and your patented purloined letter approach succeeds again. stay out in the open and no one will think to look for you.

 

“who says i won’t sleep with you?”

 

“kristopher,” you answer monotonously. “kristopher says it.”

 

“bah,” he waves his hand dismissively. “kristopher isn’t the boss of me.”

 

“i guess according to what you said at the lake house, as long as we do it right in front of him then it isn’t cheating, huh?”

 

“exactly,” riley says, sipping his beer slowly. “he’ll probably join in.”

 

it was about a week ago that kristopher revealed his true feelings: he’s attracted to you, despite how white you are- and you are _very_ white- and you’re still trying to decide if he’s being sincere or if he’s just _really_ desperate to get you to humiliate yourself. if kristopher genuinely wants to sleep with you, what’s stopping you? what’s in the way? not between you and kristopher but between you, kristopher and _riley._ you suppose it’s possible riley doesn’t want to sleep with _you,_ and it could be possible but he’s always acted as though he’d be open to it now that you’re older. he’s simply never been in a situation where it was possible.

 

it’s been on your mind a lot. a threesome.

 

could you have a threesome with kristopher and riley? the question isn’t just is the possibility there, but also- is it healthy?

 

you know it would probably ruin a lot of things. riley would still be falling asleep in kristopher’s arms and not yours. but you wonder if you just need it out of your system. you’ve been in love for so long that if you could just let it out, you’d get over it. you’d let it all go. it wouldn’t be inside of you anymore and you could move on.

 

but this isn’t an infatuation. this is the boy next door. this is the popular, pretty boy who was always on your side. the older boy who stuck up for you, invited you places even when you were the youngest and most boring one there. you weren’t exactly _bullied_ growing up, but you didn’t have many friends and riley never cared. he never treated you like the outcast you felt like. he was always there. it never crossed his mind that he could abandon you. it wasn’t an option for him.

 

you don’t just get over the boy next door. you don’t just let go of 23 years of heroicness. because that’s what he is. riley and your dad, both your heroes. for very different reasons, but nonetheless, your heroes. your dad is someone you admire; riley is someone you _idolize_ . you aspire to _be_ your dad; you aspire to be _with_ riley. there are no substitutions when it comes to the boy next door.

 

that’s why you wonder if riley has any idea how sincere kristopher is.

 

“if kristopher wants to fuck me so bad he should just tell me.” you imply that you’re joking with the lilt in your voice, careful not to let riley know this has already happened. “i could make that little dream come true.”

 

“i’d watch,” he shrugs. “i’m joking around and all but i think i’d really watch that.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“yeah, there’s something really hot about pale skin and dark skin like that,” he says. you laugh.

 

“this is a sexually charged environment,” you say. “i need a grindr. look at this guy. he’s a daddy.”

 

“i can’t see you with a daddy,” riley snorts. “like an older man? no way. you need to stick to people our age.”

 

 _our_ age. not _your_ age. you notice that specifically. but then it hits you how ironic it is that riley doesn’t believe in robert. because you don’t like to believe robert really ever happens, either.

 

“i’m 23, not 16.”

 

“but i’ve been with older men,” riley says. “daddies. they’re usually really cringey. say stupid shit like, ‘you’re the apple of mine own eye,’ or whatever.”

 

you know he’s joking about the actual phrase, but you _hate_ that you know he’s right. you also hate imagining that riley’s been reamed by older men the way robert reams you. you bite down on your bottom lip in anger and envy. don’t think about it. don’t imagine the old pervs who’ve gotten to hold riley down on a mattress and finger him until he comes.

 

you know riley has a fairly checkered history with abuse, only for him, it came from romantic and sexual partners. he doesn’t really talk about it, just like you don’t usually talk about your mom, but you know it’s been a running theme until kristopher. you know he’s had to take photo of bruises - just in case. you know because you’ve helped him take them. nothing ever came of them, but you wonder how many of them came from daddies he met on grindr, too.

 

“well, maybe i’ll find some nice twink like you and top instead,” you say. “you guys never give me enough credit as a top. i know what i’m doing.”

 

there it is. subtly remind him that you would fuck the hell out of him if you had the chance. you used to try to keep this sort of thing from riley- that you’re sleeping with other people- but you realize it probably just makes you look like a pure little angel who isn’t interested in sex, and you need riley to realize you _are_ interested in sex. you could spank riley like kristopher does, if that’s what he wanted. whatever he wants, you’d deliver. riley’s a bottom- and a sub, for that matter- and you’d be a top the rest of your life if it meant you got to spend it with riley. you need him to know you’re willing to do the exciting, kinky stuff but he also needs to understand you have no connection to the people you’re doing it with. grindr is the perfect solution. you could lie about actually meeting up with these guys. you don’t really have to do it. you could just let riley believe you’re fucking twice a day except on sundays, which is the lord’s day.

 

“well, be careful,” he says nonchalantly. he’s working on a puzzle. he likes to do puzzles on his coffee table and then glue them together to frame on his wall. this one is a mountainscape. your favorite is the sexy fireman right above the bed. “that bruise on the back of my thigh was from someone i met online.”

 

you remember it. the worst injury he ever had. you took the picture for him.

 

“really?”

 

“yeah,” he sighs. he doesn’t sound upset or put out, more like he’s resigned to the past. “you’re probably better off than i was, but still. be careful.”

 

“why?”

 

“why should you be careful?” he sounds alarmed as he turns to look at you intently and you shake your head.

 

“no. why am i better off than you?”

 

“oh,” he says, turning back to his puzzle and grabbing his beer. “because you’re bigger and stronger than i am. in better shape. and you have a dick.”

 

“why does that matter?”

 

“because people see vaginas and automatically associate them with weakness,” he says, still unemotional about the subject. “so i think they get more aggressive, thinking they can get away with more and can overpower me better. which is true, but not because i have a vagina.”

 

you frown and the lean in and hug him. the hug is more for you than him; you’re always willing to listen to riley’s problems and experiences but that doesn’t mean you can stomach the really bad ones well. he reaches up with a hand and pats your arm.

 

“no, it’s not,” you tell him. “it’s not because of your vagina. it’s because of your diet. and exercise routine.”

 

“exactly.”

 

you both laugh a little and you pull away, allowing him access to his puzzle again.

 

“i was really lucky with kris.”

 

“you were.”

 

“he’s gay as fuck,” he says. you know this, but you know how important it is to riley so you always let him say it: “i can’t believe how nonplussed he was when i told him i had a pussy. he didn’t care at all. i still can’t believe he didn’t get grossed out.”

 

“kris is a good guy but that’s basic decency,” you remind him. “even if he weren’t attracted to you anymore he shouldn’t act disgusted at the simple thought of your body.”

 

“i know.”

 

“i’m just saying.”

 

“i know.”

 

“your body is all you have,” you continue. “you should love it. and no one else has any right to it except you.”

 

“i know.”

 

you believe that, too. your feelings on bodies came about because of your own physical fitness routines rather than having any sort of disconnection from it like dysphoria, but it applies to everyone all the same. you’ve seen and heard the things shitty people say about bodies, even if nothing bad has ever really been said about yours. and you definitely know how hard riley has it with his own body, so you like to remind him of it now and then: that he’s allowed to love himself even if no one else does.

 

but everyone loves riley. even the people who hated riley only hated him because they loved him so much.

 

“you know i love you, right?”

 

“of course,” he says, turning to look at you in slight concern. “i love you, too.”

 

“and kristopher loves you.”

 

“i know.”

 

“not as much as i do but he does love you.”

 

riley laughs.

 

“no one loves me as much as you love me.”

 

“and vice versa, i’m sure.”

 

“oh, definitely,” he says, going back to his puzzle. “i still feel overprotective about you.”

 

“really?”

 

“you’re my little baby neighbor kid,” he shrugs. “i have to raise you myself and make sure you turn out healthy and happy.”

 

you want to be happy to hear that. you want to be ecstatic. but you can only really focus on the _little baby_ part. riley’s kinky but he’s not a creep. if he still thinks you’re an innocent little virgin, he’ll never touch you.

 

“i’m not a little baby, though.”

 

“i know but that’s what i mean. you’re a big boy now but i love you so much i’ll always think of you as that little kid who wanted the bright orange bandaid when you fell off your trike.”

 

“fuck,” you breathe at the sudden memory. you hardly remember it in detail but riley does and he brings it up often. your mom told you that you didn’t have any orange ones left but you didn’t believe her. “i wanted it because it matched my hair.”

 

“i know,” he laughs. “i also remember when you had like two teeth because they all fell out at once.”

 

“stop.”

 

“it’s true.”

 

“i remember when you showed up on my front door step with cum still in your hair.”

 

riley gasps.

 

“okay, i’ll stop,” he says. “that was the moment your mom decided she hated me.”

 

“it was.”

 

“i don't blame her. i was a slut.”

 

_“was?”_

“i’m practically a married man,” he says. “i’m not a slut anymore.”

 

“doesn’t _slut_ refer to the amount of sex you have?”

 

“and how many people you have it with.”

 

“i guess you’re the expert.”

 

“good to know someone recognizes my talents.”

 

“anyway, my mom disliking you isn’t exactly an indication of anything. she doesn’t like her own son so who cares if she liked you?”

 

now it’s riley’s turn to hug you. he looks over and frowns sadly first, then rests his forehead against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you.

 

“well you always have my mom,” he says. what you appreciate is that he doesn’t try to deny it. he doesn’t act like your mom is a good person who really does love you and is just withholding or having a difficult time. “she’s always loved you. she’ll be your mom.”

 

“have you heard anything?”

 

“oh, i didn’t tell you?”

 

“no, but you sound hopeful.”

 

“well, it came back negative but they’re doing more tests basically. and they have to get rid of the lump obviously so she’s having surgery in like, a week. but she should be okay.”

 

“riley, that’s so awesome, why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“it happened two days ago and i was just so relieved i sat and cried for like, three hours straight. i didn’t even tell kris until yesterday.”

 

“how come?”

 

“i’m not sure,” he says earnestly. “i think i just worried if i got relieved too soon then she’d call back like oh, it was a prank, i’m gonna die in a week, or something weird like that.”

 

“why would she do that?”

 

“it’s not _logical,_ i was just freaked out,” he says. “i dunno. but it’s gonna be okay, i think. there’s no reason to think she’ll have any more complications during surgery than anyone else so it should be fine.”

 

“that’s great,” you urge. “i wanna call her now. can i call her sometime?”

 

“yeah,” he nods. “do you wanna do a dinner with everyone?”

 

“sure,” you say. “who’s everyone? who’s in town?”

 

“both brothers and a sister,” he says. “erin and sarah are at school. turner, rhys and carly are here.”

 

riley has a big family and you’re never sure who’s around and who isn’t. he’s the oldest, which might be why he was so quick to take you under his wing as a little brother, too.

 

“let’s do it,” you nod. “maybe sometime next week.”

 

riley puts together his puzzle in silence for the rest of the evening. you sit on the couch and watch his confused, adorable little face as he tries to put pieces together. kristopher gets home around 9pm from a long weekend shift and you go home before you can embarrass yourself in front of either of them. kristopher is too tired to fuck with you for the few minutes you see him though, so as you drive home you wonder if you should’ve stayed. but you fall asleep peacefully that night, your apartment cold, dark and quiet. just like you like it.

 

the next day is not quite as peaceful.

 

you’re skulking around the break room, trying to find the energy to take on your last two tickets of the day and to _not_ make anything out of riley going radio silent the past two days. he does this sometimes. it’s just how he is. you usually don’t mind, though you miss him a lot. but with kristopher acting the way he is and robert staring at you from his desk as usual, you’re a little more vulnerable right now.

 

you look over your shoulder and robert is gone. his chair is still spinning so he must have just left. before you can really get a good look around the office, there are hands on your wrists. they’re pulling you into the bathroom and shutting the door.

 

“hey- wh-”

 

 _“sh,”_ robert coos. “it’s just me.”

 

you pull out of his grip as he shoves you lightly towards the sink. you quickly look under the stall doors. you don’t see any feet but you’re angry robert took the risk anyway.

 

“there could’ve been people in here.”

 

“i knew there wasn’t,” robert smiles. he approaches you and puts his hands on either side of your waist against the sink, effectively pinning you there. “i was watching.”

 

“just so that you could do this?”

 

“yep,” he says, expelling a breath against your neck. the thing about robert is that he’s not a _unattractive,_ he’s just desperate and a little too old for you. his iron will is embarrassing and so is the idea of dating someone who could be your dad because you couldn’t get the guy your own age. but he has bright blue eyes and light brown hair, a little shaggy but endearingly so. he has nice skin for his 40s and he keeps his body clean. he’s a little overweight and has a nice face, so you’re not exactly _against_ being attracted to him. but his cute stomach and pretty eyes aren’t why you want to sleep with him.

 

“i’m not fucking you at work.”

 

“you sure about that?”

 

you stare him down.

 

_“yes.”_

 

“because i seem to recall a little boy who was so naughty he needed his daddy to punish him,” he says and you retch. “i don’t know if that little boy can be trusted with making his own decisions.”

 

“are you playing around right now? do you really think you can get me to call you ‘daddy’ by talking down to me?”

 

“that’s not what i’m trying to do.”

 

“you’re not fucking me at work.”

 

that’s when he puts his hand around your throat and your heart skips three beats.

 

your fight-or-flight kicks in except your body chooses neither. it decides instead to go into shock. you grab his wrists but you don’t pull him off out of the sheer fear that he’ll start to tighten instead. you just stand there, pressed against the counter behind you, staring into robert’s eyes and not daring to breathe.

 

“is this what you want?” he asks softly, his thumb twitching against your skin. “do you want me to dominate you completely? you liked the idea of being shown off, didn’t you? want me to show you off in front of everyone?”

 

“n-no-”

 

“if i dominate you for everyone to see they’ll definitely know you’re mine.”

 

you cough and feel your throat bulge against his hand.

 

“get off me.”

 

“no.”

 

“get _off_ me-”

 

you grab blindly at his collar and pull him off your neck. he goes willingly, a sneer across his lips the whole time. he stumbles backwards and grabs your wrist before you can do much else and pulls you toward him, sending you toppling into his chest for you to catch like a maiden in a romance novel. you’re staring up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth as his punishing grip tightens around your wrist.

 

“you call me up and ask me to come fuck you more and more frequently and i do it out of the goodness of my heart. it’s about time you pay me back.”

 

you scowl.

 

“you do it because you want to.”

 

“i do want to,” he nods. “i also feel like helping you. now it’s time you help me back.”

 

“by getting fired?”

 

“by coming to my place tonight.”

 

“no.”

 

he pulls you even closer, knocking all the air out of your lungs. then he presses his palm against your temple, clutching your head close to his chest.

 

“you’re coming over tonight and you’re bending over for me the way _i_ want you to. and you know why i know you’ll do it?”

 

“if someone see-”

 

“because i know there’s something eating away at you. i don’t know what it is or what it’s about, but it’s gnawing at you the way you gnaw at me.” you go dead silent as tears form in your eyes. “it’s tearing you down, little by little, wearing you away. you’re calling me up because you need to let it out. you need to be punished for something. i’m no fool. so you’re coming to my place tonight. and we’re gonna let it out together.”

 

your head has gone blank. your face and body have, too. robert has your number, that’s the only thought you really have. robert just called you out, he just pinned you down and figured you out. he knows _exactly_ what’s going on in your head and in this relationship and suddenly the little bit of power you had is gone. you don’t know _how_ you lost it, especially when you’re starting to get the feeling that robert would _kill_ for you. you should have him in the palm of your hand but somehow it’s the opposite, and why wouldn’t it be? that’s exactly like you. this makes a lot of sense. the people you should own instead own you; the people you should hate instead hate you. the people you love don’t love you back. the people you love _hate_ you.

 

“my place,” you finally say. “i’ll see you. but only at my place.”

 

robert pauses.

 

“fine,” he says, finally letting you go. he shoves you away and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. “get off me. someone could see.”

 

you know he’s being sarcastic. you know he’s just repeating yourself back to you. but it stings all the same. being told to get off makes you embarrassed; it makes you sound like you just couldn’t help yourself and you wonder how robert managed to trick you into thinking _you’re_ the one who’s in love.

 

oh, wait. you are.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter doesn't exactly bode well for kiran, who has no last name that i can recall. i don't remember what i've written. also we'll meet the last main character finally, i guess


	8. exhilaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "you’re not the meek little boy you think you are. you’re far more exciting than you give yourself credit for. you’re thrilling. you enjoy the adrenaline rush and you just haven’t had it enough to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw sexual content

you’re in a daze that you can’t snap out of. you’ve been in it all day, ever since robert told you to _get off him_ and even riley finally texting you back didn’t help. a lot of that is due to the fact that he gave you a simple “lol” in response to your six texts, which isn’t something to freak out about but it’s irritating all the same. riley does that sometimes. he’ll pop up with a problem and want to talk to you about it because you’re just _so smart and always know what to do,_ but when _you_ need something, he’s nowhere to be found. when he’s around he’s amazing at advice, but it’s really hit or miss. you know he cares. you just wish he’d be around to care more sometimes.

 

but as it is, right now, you don’t really mind. you’re far too distracted to worry about riley right now, anyway. part of you considers calling your dad and letting him know how much you love him, just in case you get murdered tonight. maybe you should let someone know you’re having a date tonight. tell them if you don’t call by ten, send the cops. you might be dead.

 

robert doesn’t stare at you like usual today. he sits, grumpy, at his desk. he hardly acknowledges anyone. you don’t approach him. you don’t even look at him. you don’t know when he leaves but by the time you get up to go home, he’s gone. it’s the only time you even look in his direction. for all you know he’s at your place already. you didn’t specify a time.

 

but he’s not, of course, so you have time to sit on your couch and stare at the blank tv. you don’t remember how to turn it on. you don’t know _why_ you’re like this. it’s not like robert did or said anything life-changing. but the idea that he _understands_ you is frightening, because you don’t want someone like robert to find you relatable. you don’t want to find _him_ relatable. you wish you could just go to bed. you probably could. it’s six o’clock, but you could probably just board up your door and windows so he can’t break in and hide under your blanket. under your orange blanket that your mom gave you when you were sixteen and is still soft as ever. you could never go back into work and just find a new job, change your number, move states. that’s one way you could get out of this.

 

you suppose it’s a bit too much. you should probably just get it over with. get it over with so you can move on, kind of like before. once it’s over, you’ll be absolved. let robert have his way with you and you don’t have to feel guilty for using him anymore. but you never felt guilty in the first place. why did you agree to this again?

 

when he finally shows up, he’s brought a surprise.

 

“hector?”

 

“you remember me,” the man says, beaming down at you from your doorstep at robert’s side. “i didn’t think you would.”

 

you stare at him blankly.

 

“what are you doing here?”

 

he frowns.

 

“well that’s not very welcoming.”

 

“kiran,” robert chides. “don’t be rude.”

 

“i’m not being _rude,_ i’m just asking what he’s doing here.”

 

“are you going to invite us in?”

 

“see, that’s the thing,” you say. “i invited _you_ over. i didn’t invite _hector.”_

 

 _“kiran,”_ robert warns. he sounds so much like your dad that you actually snap to attention and look him in the eyes. “stop being rude and invite us in. or do you enjoy embarrassing me?”

 

you don’t know why he’s being like this. you don’t know what changed. you can’t figure out if it was gradual or if it was overnight. did you just not notice it happening? what _happened?_ you finally step aside and let them both in. some part of you truly doesn’t want to embarrass robert. it’s the part of you that doesn’t want to shame your family name, either. it only just occurs to you that hector is here for a reason and if it’s the same reason _robert_ is here -

 

“i’m not doing a threesome,” you say before you even have the door shut. you just blurt it out; the image pops into your brain and the phrase comes forth. you’re not doing a threesome. not _this_ threesome, especially. if you’re going to do a threesome, it’s going to be with the boy you’re in love with.

 

“don’t be crude,” robert says, taking his shoes off by your door. hector follows suit. “hector isn’t here to have sex with you.”

 

“he’s not?”

 

hector smiles at you. things go in slow motion when he pulls out his phone and you suddenly put everything together.

 

“he’s going to film us.”

 

 _“what?”_ you screech. “no he isn’t.”

 

“yes, he is.”

 

“i let you get away with a lot of shit robert, but i’m not consenting to this. there’s no way he’s filming us. what are you, fucking nuts?”

 

“you’re going to let him,” he says, his voice dropping several octaves. “do you know why?”

 

“why?”

 

“because if you don’t, the entire office is going to know we’re fucking.”

 

you scoff.

 

“how?”

 

“i’ll tell them.”

 

“and they’ll believe you?”

 

he smiles.

 

“you got me. i’m not very good at blackmail. but you _will_ let him film us. not because i’m going to make you, but of your own volition.”

 

“oh yeah?” you ask. “so you’re gonna convince me i want this somehow?”

 

“i don’t have to convince you,” he says. “i just have to show you. i just have to show you that you already want it.”

 

you lick your lips and fold your arms. hector seems uninterested, as if he knew it was going to be difficult and was expecting a fight. robert must have prepared him. you point at the dining table with a big grin.

 

“please, hector. sit. be comfortable. this might take a while.”

 

hector raises an eyebrow at robert. robert’s eyes don’t leave you and yours don’t leave his. you’re both smiling at each other, ready for a showdown, and hector sighs loudly.

 

“i’ll stand.”

 

“cool,” you say, perky and upbeat. “so go ahead. therapize me. why do i actually want to film myself having sex with an old man?”

 

“you want me to come up with some epiphany for you, as if i’ve been able to see something in you that you couldn’t see yourself. you want me to give you a revelation, or to enlighten you. you want to get something out of this yourself. you figure, if you’re going to sleep with me _and_ film it, you may as well make it a life-altering event.”

 

you shrug at him.

 

“sure. i guess.”

 

“but the truth is… there isn’t anything shocking to reveal. you know why you want to film me fucking you?”

 

“why?”

 

“because you just _want_ to.”

 

your smile fades.

 

you have to dig pretty deep down to find what you’re looking for, but the simplicity of it all is staggering. because you just _want_ to. you don’t reply. you think about it hard. do you _want_ to film yourself having sex? is the answer really as simple as you’re an exhibitionist?

 

“you don’t have some deep, dark answer,” robert continues. “it isn’t to stick it to your mom or dad. it isn’t because of some long lost love, which is what i suspect eats you up inside. it’s because you want to. you’re not the meek little boy you think you are. you’re far more exciting than you give yourself credit for. you’re kinky, kiran. you’re thrilling. you enjoy the adrenaline rush and you just haven’t had it enough to know.”

 

 _long lost love._ he’s not right about that, and you thank god he doesn’t know _everything_ about you. in fact, what eats you up inside is that riley is so unfortunately available at the drop of a hat. but you’ve never considered _this._ you don’t have much self-loathing in your bones but you’ve never thought so highly of yourself that you’d consider yourself _thrilling._

 

is he right? are you more exciting than you think?

 

you like it. you like that thought. you like being exciting. like riley. like kristopher. and when you think about it really hard, you think he might be right.

 

you’re thrilling. you’re a thrill-seeker. you can be someone’s manic pixie dream guy. you’re _robert’s_ manic pixie dream guy and you simply never realized it.

 

but-

 

“and you think saying all that is going to convince me to let some stranger film me naked?”

 

“and on _his_ phone.”

 

“hah,” you laugh. “i’m not that easy.”

 

“of course you’re not,” robert shrugs. “that’s why you’re so exciting. so i have to convince you further. but it’s true, isn’t it? you kind of like the idea of being flimed?”

 

you don’t answer, which is answer enough.

 

“are you a slut?”

 

hector’s voice is deep and comes from nowhere. you look over at him and nod.

 

“i guess so.”

 

“any good slut has a sex tape by this point,” he says monotonously. his voice is so flat that you can’t tell if he’s interested in what he’s saying himself. “you should make one. if you want to be a good slut.”

 

does riley have a sex tape?

 

riley probably has several, doesn’t he? he probably has plenty of himself and kristopher. of course, they’re not oh vhs’s anymore, they’re on smartphones and laptop and - god, riley once talked about becoming a camboy. you wonder if he’s done stuff on his webcam for money before. you wonder if that’s a good way to make some extra cash. you wonder if you could do it.

 

“think about it. your first sex tape, with a daddy. that kind of shit’s in high demand.” robert is still trying to convince, unaware that it’s already worked. that it worked immediately. that you’re a sham and he’s seeing right through you, even if he doesn’t realize it.

 

“what do you mean, _demand?_ i’m not sharing it.”

 

“no?”

 

“no,” you say. “you can jack off to it and so can hector, but we’re not posting it anywhere.”

 

robert grins.

 

“so you want to do it?”

 

“if i say yes are you going to gloat?”

 

“no,” he shakes his head solemnly. “i’m going to get the condoms out.”

 

“then get the condoms out,” you tell him, already heading toward your bedroom. you see hector roll his eyes before following behind you and robert goes to get his backpack by the door. you know he brings sex toys over but you’ve never had a chance to use them. you don’t own any sex toys. that doesn’t seem right, for someone as exciting as you. you’re staring at your own bed, wondering how exactly you got here when hector’s voice cuts through the silence.

 

“are you gonna get naked?”

 

you jump a bit and turn to look at him over your shoulder. he does this thing where he tilts his forehead forward and looks down his nose at you. not condescendingly but - dumbly. as if he’s trying to register who you are still and what he’s going to say next. you frown.

 

“i was gonna let him do it.”

 

“why?”

 

you don’t have an answer for that. you just shrug.

 

“because wouldn’t you like to see me getting undressed by an older man when you jerk off in the future?”

 

“to be honest, i’m hoping robert’s not in it too much,” he says. “he’s too much like my dad for me to want to jack off to.”

 

he looks away from you and you wonder again how you got here. that was a bizarre sentence you just had the misfortune of having to hear and you sort of want to call the whole thing off, but you suppose that’s just what happens when you’re the daredevil kind of person you are.

 

“how did you two meet?”

 

“grindr.”

 

“so you’ve fucked?”

 

“we were going to, but we never did.”

 

“but… you’ve seen him naked?”

 

“yeah.”

 

“how?”

 

“because we did the same thing with this twink we found on grindr together. filmed it, i mean. he looked exactly like you. not exactly. he was smaller. but same color hair. and skinny. like you.”

 

it’s like he’s having a conversation with himself. he doesn’t acknowledge you other than to reference your appearance and he definitely doesn’t look your way. you frown in recognition of the situation: robert has been pretending to bang you even when he’s not banging _you._ it’s a revolting idea. you shudder at the concept.

 

“why’d he - wh - what was the point of that?”

 

“this kid would do stuff you wouldn’t do,” he shrugs. “and he was young so he was easy. just turned eighteen or something.”

 

“ _i’m_ young,” you say. hector laughs.

 

“you’re 23. that’s not young.”

 

“how do you know how old i am?”

 

“i know a lot about you.”

 

“because robert talks about me?”

 

“yep. i’d say don’t flatter yourself but you probably should. he’s in love with you.”

 

“i can tell.”

 

“you look young though,” hector says suddenly, his head snapping up and staring you in the eye. he studies you carefully. you want to walk away but robert is out there. somewhere. where the fuck is he? “like seventeen.”

 

“i don’t look seventeen.”

 

“you look seventeen.”

 

“you think robert wants to bang a seventeen year old?”

 

“yes.”

 

you shudder visibly as you realize the worst part of all this: you’re giving yourself over to a predator. you’re _consenting_ to robert, you’re _allowing_ him to get what he wants. part of you wants to give him the benefit of the doubt. the part of you that realizes you _do_ look young, you _do_ need to find men who aren’t repulsed by how young you look, you _do_ have to trust that someone is not attracted to you _because_ you look young but _despite_ it. everyone you know looks young for their age, really. kristopher looks twenty-five. riley looks eighteen. but robert isn’t fucking you even though you have a baby face. he’s fucking you because of it.

 

“don’t worry,” hector says eventually. “he’s genuinely in love with you. it’s not just your pretty face. or your pretty body. it’s all of you. he loves you.”

 

your stomach churns.

 

“why?”

 

“because you’re the whole package,” he says. “you’re hot, funny, smart. exciting.”

 

you feel like you might throw up. being complimented by these men isn’t really a compliment. it’s more like a series of sick jokes and you’re the butt of them all.

 

you hear robert’s footsteps finally and hector raises his eyebrows at you as if to say, _get ready._ he unlocks his phone and starts messing around on it, presumably getting the camera ready and you stare at him in awe. he’s such a bizarre human being.

 

“how old are _you?”_ you ask. he doesn’t even look up.

 

“twenty-four.”

 

one year older than you. he’s so young to be caught up in all this and that’s when you finally understand: hector is robert’s protege. he’s learning. he’s being groomed. you wonder if maybe hector isn’t that bad. maybe he’s just impressionable. maybe he’s found robert and is just following him because he has no one else to follow and he doesn’t exactly seem like a leader himself.

 

you want to say something more but robert crosses the threshold and you’re staring sadly at hector as he puts a hand on your shoulder. you watch hector hold the phone up as he tilts your chin towards the bed and pulls you over. he sits you down on foot of it and nods at hector to start recording. it all just happens. you’re there, but you don’t really remember it.

 

you recall breathing heavily - or maybe not heavily, but consciously, as if it’s the one thing you can focus on. you breathe in as robert undoes your tie and out as he pulls it through the loops of your collar. you breathe in as it drops the floor and out when he starts on the buttons of your shirt. you breathe in as he follows down the line, carefully, slowly, painstakingly undoing each one and out as he finally pulls it over your shoulders so you’re in just your undershirt.

 

you breathe in when he whispers in your ear, _“you’re so beautiful.”_ you hold it. it gets caught in your throat.

 

you breathe out when he slams you against the bed and starts to undress you aggressively. you can’t help it. you have to breathe out. he pushes it all out of you.

 

“robert…”

 

“yeah,” he nods, pulling your socks off. “say my name. say it all breathy like that, out of breath, like you can’t breathe.”

 

“i _can’t_ breathe,” you say. it comes out more romantic than you mean it and robert latches on.

 

“i make you breathless?”

 

you laugh softly and look at hector.

 

“you’re filming?”

 

“oh yeah.” at some point he’s put a piece of gum in his mouth and he chomps it loudly. “keep doing that.”

 

“keep doing what?”

 

“these videos are great when you look at the camera like that.”

 

“like what?”

 

“scared.”

 

you freeze.

 

you look scared? _are_ you scared? are you scared right now? you look down at robert’s head. he’s balding near the back. he’s pulling your slacks down and now you’re only in your briefs and he waits to take them off. he rubs his nose against your dick, coaxing you into hardness.

 

are you scared right now?

 

“wanna suck it?”

 

robert puts his fingers in the waistband and finally starts to pull them down. this is it. fully nude on camera. on someone else’s camera.

 

you stop him. you put your hand down and you pull the elastic back up gruffly. robert looks up at you in surprise.

 

“what are you doing with this after you film it?”

 

robert’s expression turns from confusion to comfort. you hate that. if he would just be terrible all the time, you could get out of this. but he has to put you at ease like an asshole. he has to make you feel like this might be alright.

 

“he’s going to send it to me,” he says. “then we’re going to keep it to ourselves.”

 

“send it to me, too.”

 

he nods.

 

“alright.” you don’t continue speaking, so he goes back to your dick, grabbing your fingers and prying them off your underwear. he puts your hands on either side of your waist, imploring them to grip the sheets as he replaces them on your briefs and _finally_ pulls them down. you aren’t hard yet which makes you start to panic. you don’t want to look like you have a tiny dick on camera. you try to get hard. you do whatever you can.

 

you wonder what riley’s mouth feels like and if it’s anything like robert’s.

 

“you like the idea of this video floating around out there though, don’t you?” he asks. his lips start to trace down your cock and you tilt your head backwards with a heady sigh. “you like the thought of it popping up at the worst times. you like the thought of your mom or dad finding it. you like the thought that if something were to ruin your life, it would be something that reminds people of how exciting and carefree and desirable you are. don’t you? don’t you like that, kiran?”

 

you lick your lips as he keeps rubbing his own up and down your shaft. you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from making any sounds.

 

“you want to act ashamed but you’re not, are you? is there someone out there that you’d like to show it to? it can be arranged.”

 

your eyes fly open.

 

riley seeing your sex tape. riley seeing that you’re just sitting here with a half-hard dick and inability to move. oh, god. riley can’t see you like this. he can’t. but hector’s already filming. and you’re already here.

 

all you can do is sit up and push robert off you. all you can do is flip him over and switch your positions, pull at his belt and try to tug his pants down. all you can do is suck him off, or at least start to, your ass up in the air and dick hanging hard between your legs. you can feel hector behind you, moving and zooming and weaving. he’s trying to get a shot of just you. no robert.

 

you reach back and start to grope your own ass. hector sighs dreamily.

 

“you’re so pale,” he says. you laugh around robert’s cock. you’d tell him that everyone says that if your mouth weren’t so full. but as it is, you just stay on your hands and knees and beckon him over to your face with a free hand. he moves away from your ass and towards your mouth, getting as close as he can as he watches over the top of the phone at you sucking robert off, slobbering up and down his shaft. you take your mouth off it with a pop and grab it in one hand, holding it in your palm as you tilt your head to the side and start licking it up and down, your eyes trained on the phone’s camera lens.

 

“do you like that?” you ask quickly, your eyes flicking up to robert. hector nods for him and robert’s hand reaches down to cup your cheek as he stares at you dreamily. that’s a yes.

 

“so much,” he says. “i never want it to end.”

 

you laugh knowingly and go back to licking his dick, your eyes back on the camera, fucking it as hard as you can with your dilated pupils and naked ass up in the air.

 

“kiran,” hector says. you look over to him for instructions. “are you a slut?”

 

you grin. you nod at him and squeeze robert’s dick, pulling a small cry from him and earning yourself a tug on your hair. you moan in pain and he moans in pleasure. hector is grinning behind the phone and nods at you to continue so you do. you keep sucking robert’s dick until he’s about to come. you pleasure him until he’s so close that his thighs quake and then you pull away.

 

you tell him to fuck you. you say it with all the confidence of a true slut. and it instills a sort of confidence in robert too, the kind only mediocre white men such as yourself can feel. like you’re invincible. like you can rule the world. like the rest of the population rests at your feet, awaiting your orders. robert is a king and you’re his -

 

queen? other king? you feel more like a pauper than a prince, and the sudden image of prince riley bestowing the gift of a smile down to you, the simple peasant boy, pops into your head. riley is who should feel this sort of confidence. riley is who deserves it. not you. certainly not robert.

 

but it’s again the thought of riley _seeing_ this video- or the several clips that hector’s taken- that makes you lean your head back against the foot of the bed, reach behind your head to grip the sheets and scream while you get fucked. you let robert bend you however he wants and take it without complaint. you look into the camera and smile, stare whoever watches this down with all the self-assuredness you don’t deserve and come all over your own stomach in just six minutes. you have to be honest, robert isn’t much to write home about but he knows how to pound a prostate.

 

it’s the first time you don’t cry during sex. it’s the first time the tears in your eyes are from the pressure building in your ass rather than the tightness in your chest. you wipe them away with a little grin rather than an angry scowl and hector comes up close to you to film your cum.

 

“are you satisfied?” he asks. you think for a moment and then shrug. hector laughs, but robert isn’t amused. he’s panting as he ties off the condom but leans back suddenly and wipes a finger through your cum. he shoves his hand into your mouth abruptly and you struggle against him, finally allowing him inside because you realize _riley_ is this kinky and lick him clean. you’ve never really tasted your own cum before. it doesn’t taste particularly special.

 

“one last video,” hector says. “i wanna see kiran getting dressed again.”

 

you frown in confusion. how is that sexy? in what way does covering back up arouse hector? you suppose it’s just about seeing you fully nude and standing again, so you mumble out, _“alright,”_ and lean up at the waist, catching a glimpse of robert slipping back into his slacks, too. you look around the room in a different kind of daze as you try to remember where everything is. clothes. where are your clothes? on the floor. but you don’t want to dress for work, you want to dress for bed. what does someone exciting wear to bed? what does riley wear to bed?

 

you pause for a moment. kristopher’s shirts. that’s what riley wears to bed. he wears his boyfriend’s t-shirts and briefs to bed. that’s a very particular kind of sexy that you can’t duplicate. you don’t have a kristopher. you only have robert and hector.

 

“what’s wrong?” hector asks, a grin forming on his face. you look over your shoulder at him and shake your head. you finally swing your legs over and get out of bed, thighs shaking more than you expected. you head toward the dresser, past hector, and open the top drawer. you don’t have any sexy clothes. you have one pair of underwear that might be considered cute, but only because they’re light pink and girly. it’s all you have though, so you go for it. you fish them out and slip them on.

 

once your dick is covered up again, your stomach turns over. you don’t know why.

 

“kiran.”

 

your head snaps up.

 

“huh?”

 

“are you okay?”

 

hector is smiling at you like he knows something you don’t. like he’s aware that he just broadcast your fuck session live to the entire world and you’re living some truman show shit. you scowl at him.

 

“i’m fine. are we done here?”

 

“i wanted you to get dressed.”

 

“i’m dressed for bed.”

 

“ah,” hector moans. he nods towards your dick. “those are cute.”

 

“thanks, weirdo.”

 

“kiran.”

 

robert’s voice is so deep and stern and it pisses you off. he may have control over you but he doesn’t have control _of_ you. he’s acting like your dad and you wish he’d come right out with it rather than step around it: he wants to do daddy kink. he wants you to call him daddy. he doesn’t realize that’s child’s play to you.

 

“stop acting like my dad, jackass.”

 

maybe it’s just that he’s older so any fight you have with him feels like a fight with your dad. the thing is, around the age of 20, your dad stopped treating you like a child who was too stupid to have a say in anything. he started listening to you more and allowing you to have differing opinions. if you were rude to his friend now, he’d probably become stern too, but he would ask you what’s wrong. he would ask if you need something.

 

but when robert looks down his nose at you, he’s your dad. and that pisses you off.

 

“what did you call me?”

 

“you heard me, you just want me to repeat it. fine. you’re a fucking jackass loser who couldn’t get married by 40 so you have to run around fucking kids who don’t know better than to avoid you. is that what you wanted me to do?”

 

robert looks over at hector. you do too and find that he’s gleeful as hell, clearly getting what _he_ wanted out of all of this now. you in your underwear, insulting a fully clothed older man. 24. he’s only 24.

 

“i’m going to just assume you’re in a weird place right now and don’t really mean that.” robert steps around the bed and approaches you. hector is still filming. “tell me goodbye. properly. without spitting or yelling or inappropriate language.”

 

you scowl harder and fold your arms.

 

“and without sarcasm,” he adds. you look at hector and then back at robert.

 

“see you tomorrow, daddy.”

 

something flips inside him, you can see it. you can see the gear in his head reverse course. that word _did_ something to him and he shoves you by the chest up against the wall, knocking all the air out of you.

 

“what did you just call me?”

 

your laugh causes you to cough a bit.

 

“don’t like it?”

 

“i thought you had a good relationship with your dad.”

 

“yeah but at 23 i don’t really call him daddy anymore. i never really did as a kid anyway.”

 

“but you have a daddy,” he says, grinning. “what you need…”

 

you stiffen.

 

“don’t.”

 

“you want to call me ‘mommy.’”

 

you push him off of you.

 

“that’s disgusting.”

 

“why is _mommy_ more disgusting than _daddy?”_ hector asks. you turn your attention to him angrily.

 

“because he _knows_ i have mommy issues and something tells me you do too,” you say, turning back to robert. “since you _talk_ about me so much.”

 

“kiran, you like to act as if i’m the one who started all this, but i’m not. _you_ called me daddy. _you_ invited me over the first time. this has all been your own making. this is all you.”

 

you’ve had enough. this has been one fucked up night but you’ve taken it up until now. there’s only so much of robert’s mind games you can take before you want to commit a crime.

 

“get out of my apartment.”

 

“this is what you do,” robert says with a sigh, like he’s your dad as he paces the room. “when you don’t like me telling the truth, you tell me to leave.” he hardly shrugs as he finishes, “fine, we’ll go. you can run from us. but you can’t run from the truth.”

 

the cliché burns your tongue. you seethe, “get _out,”_ feeling ridiculous pointing towards your front door so angrily while standing in just your underwear. but they leave. they get out of your apartment without complaint or argument and you feel a sense of relief for about four seconds.

 

then you realize what you just did. and it call crashes down around you.

 

the shower scalds, not because you have it on too hot but because you just want it over with. you want to cleanse yourself but you also want to put clothes on, to cover up. you hate being naked and vulnerable anymore but you _must_ clean robert and hector and that phone off of you. you have to get rid of it.

 

you should realize, of course, that putting on a giant sweatshirt and sweatpants with thigh highs isn't going to make you feel better. you sit on your couch, scrolling through the tv channels but nothing helps the rocking back and forth and palpitating heart in your chest. nothing takes your mind off it.

 

is this how exciting people act? is this how thrilling people feel after something so dangerous? shouldn’t you feel more alive?

 

 _can_ you feel more alive?

 

can you just… _make_ yourself feel a sense of accomplishment here? reframe the situation. you’re daring. you’re not stupid. you’re not vulnerable and naked, you’re carefree and confident. and robert wasn’t wrong: there’s something exhilarating about a sex tape existing of you, especially one that you look so good in. you’re in your prime. you _should_ be naked on camera right now. if it’s a sex tape that’s going to bring your great accomplishment down, at least you looked good doing it.

 

yeah.

 

you look good. you’re not a boring teacher’s pet. you’re a sexy young thing, breaking hearts and taking names. you make hair stand on end, don’t you? riley isn’t the only manic pixie dream boy around here and just because you only have _one_ admirer doesn’t mean he doesn’t count. no matter how old and gross he is. most of riley’s are, too. you ignore that you’re the one who fantasizes him into being the perfect angel on earth. that’s not important. because you know no one is perfect deep down.

 

except for you. you might actually be perfect. you simply never realized it before.


	9. guts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y-you’re so speechless even your brain stutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw lots of shit in this chapter, guys. sexual content, somewhat focused description about throwing up, alcohol/alcoholism, referenced child abuse and teen/adult sex trauma, talk about trauma in general... i think that's it but if you have any specific triggers you might want to avoid this work because it's starting to pack a lot in. again, none of this is meant to be romanticized/eroticized, but if even reading commentary on these subjects offends or upsets you, steer clear.
> 
> also please remember this is not proofed or edited/beta'd at all so there's gonna be tons of typos. you can always point them out to me if you find them. especially the particularly embarrassing ones.

 

you’re a new man. you feel it, at least. you practically  _ own  _ this party and that’s a pretty new feeling for you. usually if you’re a big deal at a party it’s either for you or because riley is pulling you into the spotlight. and even when the party is for you isn’t a guarantee that anyone will care you’re there. it’s riley, really, that cements your spot in celebrity. but tonight, fuck riley. you don’t need him. you don’t think you do, anyway. 

 

someone’s already asked you to dance, which isn’t that new but it hasn’t happened in a while. and while you were grinding on him, someone else came up from behind and started grinding on you. you looked up by chance and caught riley’s eyes. 

 

he didn’t look  _ jealous,  _ just surprised. maybe a little wary. a little concerned. and  _ that’s _ new. usually he cheers you on, congratulates you on the sex and offers his guest room to copulate in. you always turn him down because you always turn the person down; you didn’t want riley thinking you were a slut. 

 

but now you’re starting to wonder if that’s  _ exactly  _ what you want riley to think you are. a slut, just like him. he certainly wouldn’t pass any judgment on you. you’d be kin, in fact. alike. brothers. two peas. just a couple of sluts, out for a night on the town. 

 

the problem before was that you felt more like a slug than a slut. you couldn’t fathom someone finding you sexy, least of all riley, even though you  _ are  _ sexy and you’ve always known that. you’ve always considered yourself the little brother who tags along, never the exciting protagonist with a cool story and a fun personality. that’s always been riley. but why? why is riley so fucking interesting?

 

you have a secret weapon now. and that weapon is yourself. you know that you’re cool as fuck now, which is the most important thing to own. confidence. you’re confident in your ability to excite; to exhilarate. you have a sex tape - well, you don’t  _ have  _ it, physically, hector does, but you have a copy on your old phone that you keep at your bedside table. 

 

yeah, you’ve jerked off to it already. to yourself. it’s the first time you’ve ever found yourself  _ that  _ attractive. you jerk off less to the videos or anyone in them and more to the thought of how fucking hot you are, how desirable and fucking wild you are, how riley would be shocked and aroused to find out you have a sex tape, he’d be so impressed and jealous and you don’t know why you assume any of these things are true but they certainly help you feel better about the whole thing. 

 

even if riley isn’t concerned or surprised, you’re still desirable. nothing changes that. 

 

speaking of riley, you wonder where he is. you turn to your left and your right but you don’t see him so he must not be in the room. which is too bad, because he can’t see you sweaty and sandwiched between two hard bodies and you wonder why you never did this before. you’ve hit on guys before, even hooked up with them- ended up in corners making out with strangers- but you were always somewhat surprised by the turn of events. right now, it seems  _ right.  _ it seems like the question is not how did this happen but what else  _ should _ happen? this is how things are. you’re happily buzzed and leaning backwards, knees bent slightly, as two other forms keep you upright. you’re warm and content and  _ right.  _

 

there’s riley. he’s just walked in, kristopher behind him, both with scowls on their faces. riley stops at the liquor table but kristopher keeps going, either not hearing riley call after him or ignoring him as he continues on and leaves out the front door. riley is scowling harder, livid out of his mind, you can tell. you know riley’s expressions and assume they had a fight, which means this is the perfect time to swoop in and comfort him. you used to feel bad about trying to take kristopher’s place, but he forfeited his right to your apology when he started pulling this trying-to-fuck-you shit. you slip out from between the two men you’re in between and find your way towards riley, who’s still carefully selecting what alcohol he’ll be using tonight while the two of you forget kristopher exists.  


 

“hey.”

 

riley turns to look at you and doesn’t say anything. his expression doesn’t even change. 

 

“you okay?”

 

“yeah,” he grunts. he finally finds a bottle of raspberry vodka and turns it over in his hands, studying it hard. then he looks at you again. 

 

then he grins. 

 

“let’s go.”

 

“riley, you can’t take an entire bottle!” someone calls behind you and you turn with a grin of your own and flip the girl off. she sighs and shakes her head as riley continues as if he didn’t hear and you follow behind him. you like the new kiran. maybe you should thank robert. riley’s going to like the new kiran, too. 

 

you grab riley’s wrist and push your way in front of him. you take him to the back door and out into the backyard where the fire pit is. there seem to be more people outside than in, and you find a secluded little corner of the backyard near a nice shed, wondering who the fuck’s party you’re at. you just showed up where riley told you to. and now you’re here and riley is looking at you in surprise. 

 

“i like a guy who takes control,” he says sarcastically, twisting the cap of the bottle open and pressing it to his lips. you breathe in deeply as you watch him swallow it down and something overtakes you; all you can imagine is covering his face in cum. making him sweaty and shaky, just to dirty up how pure he is. not because he’s the dictionary definition of the word, but because he’s so fucking perfect to  _ you  _ and you just want to ruin him. destroy him. wreck him. mercilessly. he takes the bottle away from his lips and seethes at the sky. “kris is being an asshole.”

 

“about what?”

 

“just everything. and he’s calling me a brat which makes it really hard to call him out because most people assume he’s in the right just because i- you know.”

 

“ _ are  _ a brat?”

 

“yeah!” he shouts angrily. “is it bratty to want some time to myself? for fuck’s sake, my mom almost had cancer. i was with my family  _ every day  _ for two weeks. i mean- that sounds- you know i love my family but you get what i mean.”

 

“they can be a lot,” you nod. as an only child, you found yourself overwhelmed at riley’s family gatherings a lot, despite how much you liked his family. “i get it.”

 

“but  _ no,  _ i get home and just want to take a nap but he gets all suspicious and asks where i’ve been. we’ve  _ never  _ been that couple. we don’t do that. we don’t question each other.”

 

“you questioned me,” you point out. 

 

“huh?”

 

“you asked if i kissed kristopher before. just because you were questioning me doesn’t mean you were any less suspicious.”

 

“but i had a reason to ask. you’d just made out with him. i came home from my sick mother’s house.”

 

“but you were still suspicious,” you say. “you did accuse me sa-”

 

“i never accused you of anything,” riley interrupts, thrusting the bottle of vodka into your hands. “shut up and drink it down. we’re getting plastered tonight.”

 

“what about kristopher?”

 

“kristopher can go home and sulk and feel sorry for himself for all i care.”

 

you knock back a big gulp of vodka and brace yourself afterwards. you expect riley to stand up but he doesn’t, so you stay rooted to your spot. 

 

“what actually happened?” you ask softly. “what did you say that made him storm out like that?”

 

“you saw him leave?”

 

“yeah. what happened?”

 

riley shrugs as you hand the bottle back. he takes a long sip. 

 

“just what i said. i told him i wanted time to myself. i didn’t wanna dance with him and stand around kissing him all night. i just wanted to get drunk and. whatever. i go home at night with him. he knows that.”

 

at the lake house, you told riley that kristopher may not love him against your better judgment. you felt terrible. but now you’re different. the new kiran doesn’t care about making riley miserable as long as he gets what he wants. 

 

so why do you say, “he just wants to spend time with you,” when you look riley in the eye and sigh? “he loves you. he misses you. you’re going through something rough and not allowing him to be there for you.”

 

riley looks at you sadly, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. he just stares for a few moments and then takes another long sip of vodka. 

 

“i really love him but something’s not right,” he says quietly. “he was the first guy who was nice to me. i mean, that i dated. he’s never hit me. not unless i asked him to. but something is just… wrong.”

 

“what do you mean?”

 

“if i knew, i’d fix it.”

 

you lick your lips. you know not to say it. but the new kiran wants to break back out. he wants out of his cage. he wants to feel alive. 

 

“do you want to break up?”

 

“no.”

 

“are you afraid you might?”

 

the old kiran feels terrible. but the new kiran - the kiran that’s been here all along, you just never knew it - loves it:

 

“yeah.”

 

you nod at your best friend and keep a smile off your face. you take the bottom of the vodka bottle and tip it towards riley’s lips. 

 

“drink up,” you tell him. “let’s get plastered.”

 

but you don’t get plastered. you’re meticulous and planning, and if you get too drunk you can’t really watch  _ riley  _ get drunker and drunker, readying yourself to strike when the moment’s right: drunk enough to be pliable, not too drunk that he doesn’t register what’s going on. not that you really know what you’re planning on saying but that's okay. old kiran couldn’t hack spontaneity but new kiran will wing it. 

 

terrible plan. 

 

new kiran watches riley do shot after shot, even tips more alcohol into his mouth and watches him swallow without a hitch. he’s only done five or six shots in the span of a couple hours but he’s been downing the vodka straight in between them and you’re worried it’ll all catch up to him at once. 

 

new kiran watches riley’s skin flush more and more, ruddy cheeks matching pink eyes that wander all over the room when he’s talking to a single person. he’s interrupting replies and declaring love and showing affection and all of that points towards  _ close, but not quite yet.  _

 

new kiran watches riley walk into the crowd of people in the large room with music thumping. new kiran watches riley start grinding on a stranger, who has no fucking idea how lucky he is. new kiran wonders why he doesn’t shove his way and dance with riley instead. 

 

new kiran may already be giving way to old kiran. or maybe new kiran was never real in the first place. 

 

new kiran loses riley. 

 

new kiran watches as the dance floor clears but there’s no sign of your best friend as it empties little by little with the party winding down. it’s nearly 6am and the floor is littered with passed out people but none of them are riley. he isn’t on a couch or a chair either and he’s not outside dangerously close to the fire pit. 

 

you lost him. you completely lost him, after watching him like prey all night. that’s right, you’re a fucking predator who was going to use riley’s sexual dysfunction and failing romance against him. your best friend. that’s your best friend. and you were going to hurt him. you were  _ planning  _ on hurting him.

 

that scares you. it terrifies you to your core. kiran isn’t capable of that. kiran doesn’t hurt people and certainly not on purpose. he’s not self-serving or one track minded. he’s quiet and shy but kind and giving. that’s what everyone says about you. compassionate and empathetic. 

 

your fingers are itching. they drive you wild. just as you reach into your pocket to quell the urge, you see something you weren’t expecting. kristopher is wading through the bodies like a cop at the aftermath of a murder spree, grimacing and wincing every so often. god, kristopher would be a sexy cop. halloween is coming up. maybe you’ll make a suggestion. 

 

“kiran.”

 

“kristopher.”

 

you both stiffen. you because you feel defensive, as if you’re going to have to argue for yourself and for riley and why tonight was something riley needed. kristopher, you imagine, because he’s sick of you. every time he has an issue, you’re there. every time he and riley go through a rough patch, you’re there. every time he so much as blinks, you’re there. and you’re not going anywhere.

 

“came to get riley.”

 

you realize something in kristopher’s sway; his whole body like a willow, bending back and forth gracefully. he isn’t tired. his eyes are tired but he that’s not why he’s slurring or moving. he’s drunk. he must have found someone else to party with- or else he drank alone. all night. 

 

“did you drive here?”

 

“no. cab.”

 

“good. you’re wasted.”

 

“not wasted. not anymore. i was. but i sobered up. a bit. anyway, where’s riley?”

 

“i don’t know,” you scoff. “i really don’t. i lost him about an hour ago.”

 

“where was the last place you saw him?”

 

“right here,” you point at your feet. “he was dancing. now all there is to prove anyone was dancing at all is the bodies on the floor.”

 

“you haven’t seen him at all?”

 

“not since an hour ago. maybe you should go back home, he might’ve found his way back.”

 

“maybe.” kristopher sways but he doesn’t budge. “maybe you should go home, too.”

 

“i guess i will,” you mumble. “i’m the only sober one here and may as well take a nap.”

 

“no,” kristopher says with a big, sloppy grin. “i meant come home with  _ me.” _

 

you close your eyes slowly and stare at the back of your eyelids for a solid ten seconds as you try to calm your breathing and yourself. kristopher is just as incorrigible as riley. he’s infuriating and the worst part is that he’s not really harassing you. he’s letting you know he wants to fuck and you’re believing him. and you’re hoping he never  _ stops  _ telling you.

 

you open your eyes. 

 

you hope one day you have the chance to fuck kristopher williams. 

 

but that time isn’t now. it isn’t now in general or specifically. no one’s in the right place for this to be happening and riley is in no place, as far as you and kristopher can tell right now. there’s too much going on to reciprocate kristopher’s wishes. 

 

new kiran is dead as quickly as he was birthed. 

 

“does riley have any idea you want to fuck me?”

 

“i’ve told him before. it’s up to him to believe me or not.”

 

“which way do you think he leans?”

 

kristopher doesn’t answer. he just tilts toward you, grin widening, and then turns around. 

 

“come home with me,” he says. “i’m not going to fuck you. i just want to find riley. and you do too.”

 

so you go home with kristopher. against your better judgment, you trudge behind him to the street, where the cab is still waiting. but you point to your own car and kristopher waves the driver off, leading you to your own vehicle. you both get in and you’re infuriated at his drunk humming because it sounds better than most people’s sober singing. he makes you so angry. and when he turns to smirk at you, you’re so charmed by him that you might crash the car just to end it all. 

 

you get to his house and just in time, but all the lights are off. you both go in and he pours you a glass of water as he explores the place only to find nothing. riley isn’t there. you’re not surprised but kristopher is irritated. 

 

“what’d you fight about?”

 

you pretend you have no idea what happened as you sip your water innocently. kristopher will think he’s giving his side first. he’ll think he has the advantage and you’ll probably agree with him that riley’s a brat, but he has no idea that you’re not on his side. well, he does, he knows you don’t like him, but he’ll still think he has a leg up on his boyfriend. he doesn’t.

 

“why do you think we fought?”

 

“uh,” you hum. “because of all this?”

 

“all what?”

 

“you leaving the party and you can’t find riley now? that’s not ordinary. usually you’re about to bang in the living room.”

 

“no we aren’t,” he mutters, heading to the wine fridge and shuffling around. he pulls out a bottle of white wine and shows it to you like he’s a waiter. “let’s drink.”

 

“it is almost 7 in the morning and you’re already drunk,” you say, shaking your head. “i’m going home.”

 

“fine,” he shrugs, heading to a drawer to fish around for a corkscrew. “don’t drink with me. i’ll just sit here and wait for riley.”

 

you look over at him as you finger your keys in your pocket. your car is still warm in the driveway. you could leave. you could  _ not  _ give in to your own intrigue and instead just go, go home, sleep until work tomorrow. but your curiosity gets the best of you. 

 

“you’re really gonna sit here and drink alone?”

 

“i drank alone all night, i can handle a few more glasses.”

 

“a few? maybe i should stay just to make sure you don’t drown in your vomit.”

 

“nah,” he says, waving you off. “if i drown in my own vomit at least it’s all over.”

 

the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. you know people who make those jokes, who may or may not be suicidal but will joke about it regardless. you don’t really think they’re funny, and this is exactly why. you can’t really tell if kristopher is joking. 

 

his tone is between grave and jovial and then he throws a grin over his shoulder. you don’t grin back but you aren’t quite as infuriated by him as you usually are. there’s a lot about kristopher you don’t know. you’re aware of that. what you never really thought about is the stuff you’ve just  _ assumed  _ about him. he’s so cocky and self-assured that you never considered he has real emotions. 

 

you want riley, but if kristopher died, you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again. 

 

“don’t get all concerned,” kristopher says, as if he’s read your mind. “i’m just fucking around.”

 

“i don’t like those jokes.”

 

“why, because of riley?” he asks, confronting you as he works the corkscrew into the bottle. “he makes those jokes all the time and he’s actually depressed.”

 

“i don’t think it’s funny when he does it, either.”

 

“but you don’t say anything about to him, do you?” he grins as the cork pops out of the bottle and he tosses everything to the counter. “can’t risk making him angry.”

 

“i make him angry all the time,” you say as kristopher drinks straight from the bottle. “i don’t really care about that anymore. i tell him all the time i hate it when he jokes about that. i can’t know if he’s seri- are you gonna stop drinking that?”

 

he’s chugging it down until you notice and say something. he stops and shakes his head with a wince and a laugh. 

 

“go home.”

 

you stand there like a lump. 

 

“hand it over.”

 

“there he is,” kristopher smiles, handing you the wine and heading to the front door. you take a sip and follow him, watching him lock the door and sink to the floor right there. “i don’t feel good.”

 

“no shit,” you say, putting the wine bottle down on the dining room table. “you just chugged almost…” you inspect the wine. “half this bottle.”

 

“no,” he says, waving his hand and shaking his head. “not that kind of good.”

 

“oh,” you say, watching as he lurches and keeps a burp down. “do you need to throw up?”

 

“probably soon,” he tells you. “i don’t know where riley is.”

 

“i know. i don’t either.”

 

“he won’t answer his phone or texts.”

 

“he’s not responding to me either.”

 

“thank god.”

 

“what?”

 

“if he’s not talking to you either then he must be passed out,” he says. “god forbid he miss a text from kiran.”

 

“what are you talking about?”

 

kristopher meets your eyes, swaying side to side and smiling. 

 

“he loves you,” he says dreamily. “you’re the only person he loves more than me. other than his own family.”

 

you’re frozen. you’re sweating and freezing simultaneously. you know he means it, he’s too drunk to lie. but he can’t mean it the way you want him to. 

 

“he doesn’t love me the same way he loves you.”

 

“of course not,” he says. you deflate. “although i wouldn’t be surprised if he does feel romantic towards you at this point.”

 

you want to be excited. you are excited. but you want to be  _ ecstatic,  _ except kristopher is a drunk wreck right now and for the first time ever, you feel terrible about everything you’ve done to him. 

 

“are you serious?”

 

he eyes you cautiously, as if he’s suddenly not so sure about you. as if you’re too excited to hear your best friend might have feelings for you. but you’d be speechless if you thought riley might actually like you like that; kristopher has no idea how much of a panic attack you’d have if you really believed him. 

 

“he  _ doesn’t  _ want you,” he assures you. “i’m just saying. the way he acts about you is frustrating sometimes. i know i can’t be you but he should put me first  _ sometimes.  _ but it’s never me. it’s his mom, which makes sense. but then it’s  _ you.  _ and i get it. you’ve known each other since you were born. you’re best friends. i’ve never even  _ had  _ a best friend i wasn’t dating. i have too many friends for that. i’m  _ close  _ to people. but i don’t- i don’t actually like people that much.”

 

he looks at you like he needs to be comforted and your breath hitches. you want to comfort him. 

 

“why not?”

 

he shrugs. 

 

“i don’t trust anyone,” he says. “i only just started trusting you.”

 

“really?”

 

“the past year or so.”

 

“what made you trust me?”

 

you expect  _ you didn’t try to steal riley away  _ or  _ riley never cheated on me with you.  _ what you  _ think  _ you’re going to hear is  _ i thought i’d lose riley to someone he felt closer to _ , but what you get is so shocking and you’re not sure why:

 

“because you didn’t leave me.”

 

your breath more than hitches. it stops completely and your body is so exhausted and confused and anxious that it actually relaxes because it doesn’t know what to do next. it can’t keep up with all your mental flips so it just gives up.

 

you take a few steps forward and fall to the floor next to kristopher. 

 

“what do you mean i didn’t leave you?”

 

he has tears in his eyes when he looks at you. 

 

“everyone  _ leaves  _ me,” he says softly. “and every time, i try to figure out what i did wrong so i can fix it. so i won’t do it again. but no matter what i change, it keeps happening. and really, deep down, i’m not the chillest person alive. sometimes i want riley all to myself. not even his mom should come before me. but i know that’s possessive. i don’t  _ want  _ to be that person, so i just channel that shit into other friends. but then they leave. so i didn’t want to waste my energy on you until i knew you weren’t going to just disappear.” he sniffles. you don’t think he’s crying as much as he’s keeping himself from doing so. “of course, now i realize i can’t get away from you. if i’m dating riley, i’m dating you.”

 

you frown at him. you frown at your friend. you frown at your friend kristopher. 

 

“and i love riley,” you tell him. “so by extension i love who he loves, too. because they make him happy and i like it when the people i love are happy. and you make him really happy.”

 

you probably could’ve just come right out and said  _ i love you  _ and he would appreciate it in this moment but never remember you said it. but he’ll have to connect the dots on his own, and given the big smirk on his face, you think he has. 

 

“do you think i’m sexy, kiran?”

 

you’re not sure why you let your defenses down. maybe it’s how deep and brown his eyes are. or that you’ve never seen him even close to tears. or maybe you’re just tired. 

 

“yeah,” you tell him. “i do.”

 

“you know i think you’re sexy too, right?”

 

you want to kiss him again but you know you can’t. 

 

“yeah.”

 

“do you think riley is sexy?”

 

your heart jumps into your throat. you weren’t expecting that. 

 

“um- kind of.”

 

“kind of?”

 

“i mean… he is… i recognize that. but he’s riley. he’s my best friend.”

 

“it’s weird for you,” he says. “that’s like finding your big brother hot.”

 

“i never had a big brother. he was all i had. he was the closest to a sibling i had.”

 

“but he's not,” kristopher says. “you don’t have the capacity for sex or romance when you’re 7. so when you grow up and find all of that, your big brother feelings can evolve into something else.”

 

“yeah.”

 

kristopher watches you thoughtfully again and you realize you should’ve disagreed with him. no, your feelings never evolved. you still think riley’s your big brother. you have no capacity of desire for your brother. 

 

“but you didn’t change?” kristopher asks when you don't continue. he’s thinking the same thing you are. you didn’t deny it. “you still feel like he’s your brother?”

 

“yes,” you answer quickly, coming to your senses. you can’t believe you almost admitted everything to kristopher. everything you’ve worked so hard the past 23 years to hide. you almost let it all go in one tired exchange. “but i guess i understand how he’s… desirable.”

 

kristopher nods. 

 

“he’s as good in bed as you think,” he says, almost to himself as he recoils in on his own body. “i’ve never gotten bored of sex with him. maybe it’s because of shit like this. i don’t get bored when i don’t feel completely secure in a relationship. when our sex life  _ was _ … like… deflating a little bit, we instituted the rule that if it happens in front of the other person, it isn’t cheating. that really helped.”

 

“really?” you ask earnestly. “usually bringing other people into the sex makes things worse.”

 

“brought us closer,” kristopher says. “i guess because we never get bored of each other. it’s less of a burden. before we used to feel like it was such a massive pressure on our shoulders not to get bored. we had to keep our eyes on each other  _ only.  _ but now it’s less like, we  _ have  _ to go home to each other but we  _ get  _ to. because we know we can fuck someone else, it makes us appreciate how close we are a lot more.”

 

you’re not sure why kristopher is giving you a revelation, but he is. it makes so much sense to you, the most monogamous man on earth. you’re still not sure you’d be able to stomach it yourself, but you basically already watch riley get fucked in front of you so you’re used to that already. 

 

“i guess that makes sense,” you say. “i still wouldn’t like seeing someone else touch my boyfriend.”

 

“eh,” he shrugs. “he’s not my property. just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean i have any say in what he does with his body.”

 

kristopher is really shocking you left and right today. 

 

“that makes a lot of sense honestly. i just…”

 

“it’s not weird to not like it,” he comforts you. “it makes sense some people like physical monogamy. it’s safer, for sure. something a little more open worked for us but that doesn’t mean it has to work for you, too.”

 

you think of robert. he’s the only person you’re fucking right now. does that mean you’re monogamous with him?

 

“i guess if i ever get a boyfriend, i’ll let you know,” you mutter. kristopher laughs. 

 

“you’ll find a good guy,” he says. you want to shout  _ i already found a good guy and you stole him from me, i found him when i was born, 20 years before you did, idiot!  _ but of course, you keep it to yourself. “just hold out for someone worth it. don’t get desperate and settle. you could land someone amazing.”

 

“you think so?”  _ as amazing as riley? _

 

he nods and frowns, as if he’s feeling sick. you wonder if you should get him a trash can. 

 

“my mom left when i was 4.”

 

and the punches keep on coming. 

 

“i- what?” you ask. 

 

“my mom was the first person to leave, when i was 4. i haven’t seen her since i was a toddler but i don’t really remember her. but i just-” he definitely looks like he’s going to vomit now. you stand up and tell him to hold on, run into the kitchen and bring the trash can out. 

 

he throws up the second it hits the floor. luckily, he makes it in and you have to look away and cover your nose. 

 

“that’s just wine and potatoes,” he says and you retch. “and i think some protein powder.”

 

“kristopher, that’s disgusting.”

 

“i was the youngest,” he says, waving at you to stay. “i’m the youngest so i’m the baby and always was. i’m still the baby so i feel like the baby everywhere. even right now, i feel younger than you. you’re 7 years younger than me. god. i feel so gross.”

 

“how much did you dr-”

 

“and i feel like, with, my dad…” he’s starting to slur now and the alcohol still in his system is definitely catching up to him. “he, like… didn’t want…” he hiccups. “he didn’t want the kids to be gone and gone so i was always a kid. even when i was 20, i was 12. he never stopped treating me like the little baby. except he treated me more like i was at least a 12-year-old because he would still punish me like a kid.”

 

the spanking conversation flashes through your mind and you’re starting to think kristopher’s dad wasn’t just punishing him. something sounds weird about all this and you wonder if it’s bad of you to want to know more details. 

 

“like, with the belt?”

 

“even when i was 20,” he nods. “he didn’t actually hit me that much after i turned 17 because i was bigger than him physically but guess who was still the baby.”

 

“so he just treated you like a kid?”

 

“he’s buy me shirts eight sizes too small. it’s like he’s stuck in some year i can’t recognize because i don’t remember it. i don’t remember being 12. i remember being 16. did i ever tell you i fucked my teacher?”

 

y-you’re so speechless even your brain stutters. 

 

“you… what?”

 

“when i was 16 i fucked my english teacher,” he says with a big grin. “that was when i realized i was gay. i wasn’t into her even though she was apparently super hot.”

 

“kristopher, that’s really fucked up. you know that right?”

 

“nah,” he says dismissively. “it was my dad that fucked me up more.”

 

you sit back down. your head is absolutely spinning, and not just because you’re exhausted. you’re depleted of energy but you have to find  _ something  _ deep down to deal with all this. with kristopher’s guts. he’s spewing up everything inside of him. he’s literally throwing up again and the turning to you with more:

 

“i never told anyone but riley about the teacher thing,” he whispers. “but don’t say anything to him. he hates it.”

 

“he should!” you shout without thinking. “it’s fucked up! it’s all fucked up, kristopher. you see that, right? you have to see that. i  _ need  _ you to see that.”

 

“all i’m saying is that it really didn’t affect me,” he says honestly. “maybe it was fucked up but it didn’t fuck me up.”

 

“it should’ve.”

 

“cool, force a trauma on me,” he seethes. “shut up. just shut up.”

 

you let out a deep breath. you suppose that’s a good point. you’ve never really thought of things that way, either. 

 

“alright,” you say. “sorry. it’s good it didn’t traumatize you. it’s just… riley didn’t know a good boyfriend until you. he had his mom and he had me but he couldn’t find a partner that didn’t abuse him. so that’s why i’ve been standoffish with you. i don’t really trust his taste in guys. but clearly you’re different. and i just- all i meant to say is it sounds like you didn’t have  _ anyone  _ until riley.”

 

“no,” he says suddenly, eyes trained on the trash can and open wide as if he’s seen something unbelievable. “i had someone.”

 

“who?”

 

“my first girlfriend,” he says. “we broke up when i realized i was gay but we were always in love. we tried to be friends for a while afterwards because we really loved each other. but it got too hard because she was  _ too  _ good to me so we completely broke apart. a year after that, i met riley.”

 

“well, that’s… sad.” you wanted to say  _ good  _ or  _ nice  _ but neither of them were correct. “i really think you sh-”

 

you were both so taken by each other and this…  _ special  _ conversation that you didn’t hear the steps coming up the porch. the doorknob turns but the door is still locked and you can hear riley searching for his keys. 

 

“there he is,” you say, kristopher’s head already up and looking out the window. 

 

“still meant to install that thing.”

 

he nods to the window sill. a box with an electronic lock is on it, collecting dust. 

 

“kristopher, if you need to talk, you can…”

 

you want to say he can come to you but not only would he never do that but he won’t remember the offer anyway. so you let the sentence hang in the air as he stares at you and riley lets himself in. he stops in his tracks when he sees both of you in front of him. 

 

“wh-what are you doing?”

 

“what are  _ you  _ doing?” you ask angrily. he rolls his eyes. 

 

“my phone died. is he okay?” he points to his boyfriend and for some reason, you’re livid with him. you have to leave. it’s not often that you get this angry with riley, but it’s happened before and you just need to cool down. and figure out what the fuck is wrong in the first place. 

 

“i’m done throwing up,” kristopher says as he rises from his ashes, suddenly a new man. he starts to pull up the trash bag and tie it off as you find your keys in your pocket. riley looks over at him and watches as kristopher fumbles with the bag, then starts laughing. 

 

“here,” he mumbles, trying to take the bag from him but kristopher refuses. 

 

“my barf is in there, i don’t want a gentleman like you to see it.”

 

riley laughs again. 

 

“we’ve seen each other throw up before, kris.”

 

“i’m turning over a new leaf,” he says. “animal crossing, new leaf.”

 

riley laughs hard, which draws a giggle from kristopher and you turn around, walk to the back door and leave without a word. not a word from you or either of them, not least of all kristopher, who just threw up in front of you in more ways than one. he couldn’t even let riley see his vomit, but you supplied him with the trash can. 

 

you feel so empty when you get home. too empty to jerk off, even to your own sex tape. too empty to watch it, to call robert, to sleep. you can’t sleep even though you’ve never been so tired in your life. you’ve been awake for twenty-one hours. but right now you’re so empty that doesn’t even register with you. you’re as empty as kristopher must be at this point, and it’s all because of him in the first place. 

 

the old kiran would let this consume him. let this lead to something destructive, find someone who will destroy him. the new kiran doesn’t need any of that. he’s destroyed himself.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rarely LOVE my own OCs but i LOVE kristopher


	10. the road trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you don’t know why he gives in to riley’s demands. he’s like a bad parent who can’t say no to his kid. riley just turns bratty - not that you can’t understand why - and kristopher gives in like he always does. so that’s why you’re at this motel. you went eight hours in the car just to end up here. staring at the one bed. between the two of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw THIS CHAPTER DEALS HEAVILY WITH RAPE AND ABUSE! it's all mentioned in conversation, not graphically depicted, but it's mentioned flippantly and as if it's not a big deal all the time. that's about all there is for this chapter though, but believe me the rape and abuse talk is flagrant and constant.

 

you think back on the past few days. the past few months. how did you get to this point? how did you get here, in a motel room, staring down at what must be a piss- and semen-ridden bed, standing shoulder to shoulder with the most confusing relationship in your life?

 

you think about it. you think hard. 

 

it started when riley wanted to do a weekend away again, but not at the lake house. he wanted to drive, wanted to go somewhere he didn’t know. he wanted to  _ really  _ get away for a while, now that he knew his mom was okay - her surgery went by without a single complication and she’s simply resting for a while now. he wanted to do something he’d never done. he wanted to see the ocean, go skydiving, kiss on the top of a ferris wheel. you and kristopher both reminded him that he’s done all those things and he said he was just being romantic, he’s always the one who has to come up with the good ideas. you rolled your eyes and told him you weren’t the one who wanted to get away, you were perfectly happy at home for a while. 

 

something was wrong and you knew it then, you just couldn’t verbalize it. you couldn’t put a finger on it. kristopher probably knew it too, but he was a little distracted by ignoring his breakdown in front of you a couple weeks prior. you were ignoring it, too. in fact, you and kristopher were both a little too preoccupied with each other to pay much attention to riley. he had to scream at both of you for either of you to get it. he had to scream so loud his voice cracked and tears formed. he had to run off and hide until you both gave up and went to the motel. that’s where you are now. staring at the bed you’re forced into. 

 

but how did you  _ get  _ here?

 

…

 

you leave at 9am, and head towards a rest stop 90 minutes away. the radio plays the whole trip and you nod off but when you get there, riley says this isn't it, he doesn't feel it yet. you and kristopher nod and head back to the car. you’re two hours away from st. louis so you make sure to piss out all the coffee you had before you left before you start out again. 

 

riley tells you the story of his first boyfriend from high school, who you hardly remember. his name was blake and he was the all-american football jock who refused to come out of the closet, even though he swore up and down he was in love with riley. it was hard enough to say he was gay, but with riley being trans, it was even more complicated. the school had been fairly cool with riley’s situation, but not all the students were. not all the teachers, either. blake was alright, but he didn’t treat riley perfectly. no one really could in high school though, you argue, and riley agrees. 

 

“he was probably the best until kris,” he says and you frown. 

 

“that’s not a very glowing review of everyone in between.”

 

“no one in between was very glowing.”

 

“you’re really bringing the car down, riley,” kristopher says. he shrugs.

 

“anyway, blake did one really good thing. there was a party where i got drunk for the first time ever. and that group of dicks, like spencer and glenn and all of them? remember them, kiran?”

 

“yeah,” you say, recalling the circle of particular douchebags from high school. they mostly kept to themselves and ragged on everyone else. you don’t mention that for some reason, they kind of liked you. 

 

“they were gonna rape me.”

 

“riley,” kristopher says. 

 

“they were,” he insists. “but blake stopped it.”

 

“how?” you ask. 

 

“i really don’t wanna talk about this,” kristopher says. riley scowls at him. 

 

“then you don’t have to,” he says. “if you don’t wanna talk about it, imagine how bad it was to live it.” kristopher sighs angrily and riley continues, “they had it all planned out. they were gonna get me alone in the master bath and take turns. i don’t remember what happened obviously, i just know i took a shot and the next thing that happened was blake was carrying me away and i was looking at the bathtub where glenn was standing like a loser. but like two days later, blake was pretending he didn’t know me because everyone was talking about how they saw him carrying me out of the house. i kept saying he was just helping me home but people thought either he was the one raping me or that we were together. which we were. he just wouldn’t let anyone know.”

 

“blake was just a kid,” you say. “i bet he’d be psyched to date you now.”

 

“anyone would be psyched to date me now,” riley mumbles. “i’m the best boyfriend ever.”

 

something sounds off, like he’s being sarcastic but desperately wants to believe himself at the same time. (maybe this was your first hint? you should have said something. you should have commented on the tension in the air.)

 

you make it to st. louis and stop at a tgi friday’s near the arch. riley waffles back and forth on wanting to go up in the arch or not and you finally decide to just go for it, much to kristopher’s dismay. 

 

“the cars are little eggs. you sit in them with 3 other people and it just rattles sideways and upwards. it’s horrifying.”

 

there’s hardly anyone there so you end up in a car alone, just the three of you. riley starts talking about his second boyfriend - glenn. 

 

“i only dated him because i was going through some rebellious phase. i didn’t want to change him, i just wanted to prove he was actually just putting on the tough guy act.”

 

“does planning on passing a boy around your circle of friends while he’s passed out count as ‘tough guy act?’” kristopher asks. “sounds like he was just a genuine asshole.”

 

“yeah,” riley nods. “that’s what i found out. he was the first person to actually rape me.”

 

kristopher takes his leave of the conversation. you don’t love it either, but it’s more awkward if no one answers. 

 

“you didn’t deserve that,” you say as the egg car lurches upwards and you cover your mouth. riley laughs. 

 

“no shit i didn’t deserve it,” he says. “are you gonna throw up?”

 

“the arch sucks,” you burp. kristopher is folding his arms and looking away. 

 

“no shit,” he mutters. 

 

the top is even worse. the illinois and missouri landscape isn’t much to look at and you can see a storm coming on the horizon. the guy at the top tells you it has lightning rods on top to keep it safe but the wind picks up and you feel it sway. he says yeah, it’ll do that, and kristopher is back in the egg car on the way down before you and riley can join him. he tells you he wants to get back on the road before the storm hits but riley thinks you should just stay here for now and wait it out instead. 

 

kristopher wins the argument but you only get to a small town called edwardsville before the storm finds you and you wait it out in a barbecue restaurant, eating another meal none of you really want. but it’s pretty good for southern illinois bbq and riley tells you it’s getting closer. 

 

“this is sort of what i wanted,” he says. “let’s keep going north once the storm passes. into illinois.”

 

kristopher says nothing so you nod at him. 

 

“sure.”

 

“my fourth boyfriend brought me barbecue when i was sick once,” he says. “my third one only lasted two days because he called a bomb threat into the school to get out of a test and got expelled.”

 

“wait. you dated the bomb threat kid?” you ask. he grins at you. 

 

“you didn’t know that?”

 

“no. no idea.”

 

“he asked me out in the parking lot of psr.”

 

“i forgot you went to psr.”

 

“mexican catholics take it very seriously,” he says. “didn’t you do sunday school? irish catholics understand.”

 

“i’m protestant.”

 

“no you’re not.”

 

“no, i’m not,” you grin. “i went to sunday school but i sure never got asked out in the parking lot, especially by a bomb threat kid.”

 

“oh, i can’t believe that. it’s one of the sacraments. right before confirmation.”

 

“isn’t that in 8th grade?”

 

riley considers it for a moment and then cocks his head to the side and nods. 

 

“yeah,” he says. “i guess it is. i guess the bomb kid was before high school. before the bomb threat. huh. it’s so easy to misremember shit when there’s too much going on.”

 

“why are we having a days of our lives, riley’s ex-boyfriends edition in the first place?” kristopher asks, his arms seeming to be holding him up at this point. his shoulders are hunched and he’s frustrated, weight all thrown to his elbows and he looks pretty sexy, in a weird way. “what is this morbid trip down rape memory lane?”

 

“it’s not all rape,” riley says. “bomb threat kid never raped me.”

 

“because you dated for 2 days.”

 

“you think bomb threat kid wouldda raped me if  _ only  _ he’d had more time?”

 

“i don’t know!” kristopher shouts suddenly, loud enough to garner attention from neighboring tables. he doesn't quiet down. “i don’t wanna think about it! i don’t wanna talk about it all day! i don’t care and i don’t dwell on it. i don’t dwell on your past. because riley, i swear to god, if i could, i’d go to prison for the shit i’d do to those guys and half the time it isn’t even because they abused you, it’s just because i’m irritated i gotta hear about them so much so just shut up! no one wants to think about you getting hurt! no one! kiran doesn’t want to know, do you?”

 

“i-”

 

“see? so please, riley,” he leans forward finally and puts his hands up as if to pray, “i beg of you. if you care about us. if you love me at all, you’ll stop talking about this. at least until we get back in the car where i can tune you out and focus on the road. you can sit in back and tell kiran about it while i listen to my podcasts up front. and we’ll go wherever you wanna go. we’ll get outta this shitty town and go somewhere better. maybe another shitty town but with something that’s gonna make you feel full because god knows i can’t do that for you right now and i don’t even really m-”

 

riley grabs kristopher’s cheeks and kisses him so hard that your heart sinks. just seeing it makes your head spin because you imagine kristopher’s is too. his eyes are wide open and staring at the ceiling as he’s pulled across the table into the crushing kiss and you’re just sitting there like an asshole. a tired, tired asshole. you don’t disagree with kristopher. you don’t want to hear about these guys, either. but you’ve never been abused the way riley has and he’s never told you to shut up about your mom so you figure the least you can do is afford him the same respect about his abusers. kristopher may have come off strong, but he’s not totally in the wrong. it’s hard to listen to this shit, but you do it because riley needs it. 

 

then again, if you knew riley would kiss you if you told him to stop, you would’ve lost your shit on him a long time ago. 

 

“calm down,” he’s saying to kristopher finally, holding his head in his hands and staring him in the eyes. “it’s just venting. no one’s hurting me anymore.”

 

kristopher mopes. 

 

“i know, but-”

 

“let’s go,” riley says, kissing him again on the nose. you don’t want to be here anymore anyway, so you slap down fifty dollars and the three of you head back to the car in the pouring rain. 

 

“my fourth boyfriend… he was the one who actually did it. we were dating but i told him no. a lot. he wasn’t even drunk. he just wanted to know what a pussy felt like. he’s the reason i only do anal now.”

 

“tab? or tag? ragdoll? some weird white kid name,” kristopher says at the wheel of the car. his head is tilted back against the rest and riley looks from you to him. he thought he was just talking to you as you wait out the run but apparently kristopher’s had a change of heart. he wants to listen now. that angers you. 

 

“tag,” riley says. “it was short for like, taggart or something. but yeah. weird name. weird guy. bad guy. raped me once and i was out.”

 

“as opposed to staying with someone who raped you?”

 

“well, i did that plenty later on.” riley turns back to you with an expression that reads as surprised but put out. “i’ve never been very smart about my boyfriends. kiran knows that.”

 

you want to grab him and scream. you want to tell him no shit, because the one who’d love him most has been here the whole time but  _ no,  _ he refused to see it. 

 

“not until kristopher,” you grin smarmily, looking up at the man in the driver’s seat who simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “truly god’s gift to man.”

 

“just because riley picked me over you doesn’t mean you have to be jealous,” he says. now riley rolls his eyes. “so catty.”

 

“my sixth boyfriend was actually okay,” riley says. you thank god he doesn’t latch onto kristopher’s very accurate train of thought. “he had a lot of his own issues and most of that abuse was mind games he didn’t really mean to play with me. but he did it nonetheless.”

 

“the rain’s let up,” you mutter. riley puts his seatbelt on and kristopher starts the car up with a sigh. he checks directions on his phone as riley continues:

 

“he’s the only one i wonder about,” he says. “the only one i hope is doing okay.”

 

“joel?”

 

“yeah,” riley nods. “he was alright.”

 

“yeah, he was fine,” you say. “he was nice to me. but he screwed around and cheated so i’m not inclined to forgive him.”

 

“that’s true, and he would never admit to cheating even though everyone saw him,” riley says. kristopher pulls out of the parking lot and heads for the highway again. “even though  _ i  _ saw him. that really should have been enough but i let it go until he dumped me. ugh.”

 

riley is silent until you really get going again. it’s about fifteen minutes later that he gets started on his next boyfriends:

 

“josh, henry and allen were fine enough too, they were between joel and spencer.”

 

“spencer,” you seethe. even you hated spencer. you hated spencer  _ so  _ much. he was a lot like kristopher in as much as he was tall and macho and way stronger than you and you could never compare. you still think riley would fit nicely with you, but he definitely fit nicely under spencer’s arm, maybe even nicer than he does kristopher’s. they were such an attractive couple and spencer knew it so he treated you like the little brother always tagging along. he never actually got to know you. he just hated to treat you like a real person so you hated him right back. 

 

“spencer actually  _ abused  _ me,” he says. “left bruises and convinced me they weren’t from him. he’d rape me constantly and i didn’t realize it was rape because it wasn’t forcible. spencer was the start of the real spiral. after him it was rhahim, trevor, the other chris, and i always forget who came next. i know mark came before kristopher but who came before him?”

 

“dylan,” you say. not because you remember the timeline so well - although you do- but because he’s the only name you haven't heard yet. 

 

“dylan,” riley says. “dylan was fine, too. but they all hit me at one point. they all ignored my no’s. then i met kristopher.”

 

“you know, before you met me, you had a realization,” kristopher says from the front seat. “i mean, you had a moment where you realized you needed to be healthier. you didn’t just get lucky with me. you’d have left because you were confused why i wasn’t abusing you too but you didn’t because you understood finally what was so unhealthy. you didn’t get lucky. you got healthy.”

 

“yeah, yeah,” riley says dismissively. you smile because you know he’s just embarrassed to hear it. he’s not actually ignoring what kristopher is saying. “the point is… i’m happy now. for once. i don’t feel like i used to, where relationships were a chore.” your heart sinks this entire monologue. the longer it persists, the further down it goes. “i feel like i know someone who cares now. it’s not like my dad ever abused my mom so i don’t know why i was so dead set on abusive guys. i don’t know what attracted me to them.”

 

“you hated yourself,” kristopher says what you won’t. the car goes quiet and you look over to see riley angrier than you’re expecting. 

 

“i don’t hate myself.”

 

“well not anymore.”

 

“i never did.”

 

“i think you did, that’s why you dated all those guys.” kristopher sounds nonchalant because he doesn’t know how pissed riley looks. “and then you changed.”

 

“why?” riley asks. “because of  _ you?” _

 

“no,” kristopher snorts. “you must’ve done something but only  _ you  _ can change that sort of thing. it has nothing to do with me.”

 

“i don’t hate myself and never have,” riley says flatly, crossing his arms and looking out the window. kristopher shrugs but doesn’t seem too fazed by it as he turns his music up just a bit. you look from boyfriend to boyfriend until you’re convinced kristopher is in another world and then your eyes settle on riley. 

 

your hand creeps over to his. it’s just resting so innocently on the seat, a little tense as he pouts, but innocent nonetheless. you touch him lightly, so lightly he doesn’t notice at first but then he turns to face you and his expression is stoney, almost cold, as you intertwine your fingers together. you swallow down hard but persist until his face finally softens and his fingers grip yours tight. he looks out the window again, his hand in yours, and you squeeze him lightly. just to let him know you’re there. 

 

“i take back all the nice things i said about any of them,” riley says suddenly. “i was just being nice. they were all shit. but i never did it out of some sense of self-hatred.”

 

kristopher laughs and the thing is, you know that’s not true. you know that riley really quite  _ does  _ hate himself, it’s just that he’s also so self-absorbed that he doesn’t realize it. he doesn’t take care of himself. he doesn’t eat right, he doesn’t exercise, he doesn’t get enough sleep, he drinks too much, and that’s just the physical stuff. he doesn’t always take his medications, he skips doctor appointments and he dates abusive men who  _ hit him.  _ there’s no sense of self-preservation there at all, though you think of robert and figure you’re really not one to talk. 

 

anyway, he’s letting you hold his hand right now so you’re not complaining about anything. 

 

then.  _ then  _ was when it changed. 

 

that’s how you ended up standing in front of this dirty bed in the middle of a dingy room in the outskirts of chicago. if only you’d kept your mouth shut. 

 

“you don’t hate yourself, you’re right,” kristopher says. “it’s more like you love yourself way too much.”

 

“what’s that mean?”

 

“it means you’re so preoccupied with yourself that you don’t stop to think what anything really means for anyone else.” again, he’s not wrong, but he says it so brazenly. “you know, a person abusing you is never your fault. but you kept choosing those kinds of guys. why?”

 

“wait so now i’m selfish so i deserved to be hit?”

 

“no, it’s just… it’s no one else’s fault, either. like, if you tried to goad me into hitting you, i never would. it wouldn’t cross my mind to do that to you. so it’s all on them for being the kind of person who could. but no one owes you anything just because you’re an abuse victim and it’s certainly not a romantic notion. no one thinks you’re a better person or cooler or more worldly because you put yourself in situations you knew were dangerous.”

 

“let me out.”

 

“don’t be overdramatic,” kristopher says but 

 

“you’re just being sensitive because kristopher has no tact,” you say. “clearly he didn’t mean anything in an insulting way.”

 

“so you agree with him?”

 

“i mean, i-”

 

“you both agree that i should just shut the fuck up, huh?”

 

“i’m not saying that-”

 

“me neither-”

 

you’re both scrabbling to find some kind of sweet release from this situation but you find none. riley is livid. his hand trembles in yours until he ultimately pulls it away. 

 

“and let go of me.”

 

he looks at you angrily and kristopher asks what he means. he says he was talking to you and you can’t meet kristopher’s eyes. 

 

“i’m not kidding, i’m done. pull over here.”

 

you don’t know why he gives in to riley’s demands. he’s like a bad parent who can’t say no to his kid. riley just turns bratty - not that you can’t understand why - and kristopher gives in like he always does. so that’s why you’re at this motel. you went eight hours in the car just to end up here. staring at the one bed. between the two of you. 

 

“they said it was a king,” kristopher says, holding his head in his hand. “they said - jesus.”

 

riley is gone. riley waited until kristopher was fighting with the attendant for at least one room, stole his keys and took off, leaving you with his boyfriend, a mini-fridge with spoiled milk inside it, and one bed. 

 

“it’s fine,” you say, putting your backpack down on the foot of the bed and pulling out sweatpants. “it’s just for a few hours and then we’ll get riley and head home.”

 

“you mean we’ll wait until riley deigns to show up.”

 

“well, why’d you say that shit to him? that was pretty fucked up.”

 

“please,” kristopher snorts. “you’re the  _ one  _ other person who agrees with me. you said as much in the car.”

 

“but you don’t just  _ say  _ that to an abuse victim.”

 

“you may have known riley longer, but i know him more intimately. believe me, he needed someone to tell him that.”

 

you seethe quietly at the reminder of the difference in nature between your relationships with riley but choose to focus on the second part instead. 

 

“tell him that he needs to shut up about his abuse?”

 

“tell him that people don’t like him because he was abused,” kristopher says suddenly, nearly cutting you off and sounding completely over the entire conversation. “they like him despite it. he thinks that’s what makes him interesting. can you imagine that? riley’s ex’s being why he’s interesting? i can’t believe that. i can’t bring myself to accept that and neither should riley. he is so much more than all that shit and he needs to start understanding that.”

 

“that’s  _ not  _ how you said it to him though.”

 

“well yeah, my wording is better now that i've had time to think on it,” he says. “but if he hadn’t just driven off into the night, i would’ve been able to apologize and correct myself now. but he just  _ leaves  _ when he feels ganged up on. he never deals with his problems, he just drinks them away or runs off.”

 

“you really have a list of grievances against riley, huh? are you two even happy together?”

 

“we’re the best we’ve ever been,” he says honestly. “i wouldn’t say any of this otherwise. i wouldn’t care if i didn’t love him so much it hurts sometimes.”

 

a disappointing thing to have in common with kristopher. 

 

“well, i’m not sleeping on the floor. either you take it, or we’re sleeping together.”

 

“christ almighty.”

 

that’s how you end up in the same bed as kristopher. he’s an old man at the ripe age of 32 and his back can’t take the floor. he says this is your doing and if anyone says anything, he’s blaming it on you and you ask if he’s 12. 

  
  


“i’m just saying.” he pulls the blanket over him and turns toward you. you roll over and face him. “what are you doing?”

 

“i sleep on my right side.”

 

“i sleep on my left.”

 

you sigh loudly. kristopher really is a priss, terrified that someone is going to what, say he’s gay? you don’t want to share the full bed either but you get up out of it and walk around to the other side as kristopher shifts over to your spot. you both finally settle in facing away from each other and he turns off the light. 

 

“are you not worried about where he is at all?” you ask. kristopher grunts. 

 

“i’m always worried about him,” he says. “i stopped letting it take a hold of me a long time ago.”

 

silence. 

 

“do you think he’ll be back?”

 

“he’ll pound on the door in a couple of hours and sleep on the chair,” he says. “i know him. you know him.”

 

“true.”

 

more silence. 

 

“kiran?”

 

“yeah?”

 

“you were holding his hand earlier.”

 

more terrifying silence. 

 

“kiran?”

 

“yeah?”

 

“are you in love with my boyfriend?”

 

the silence is deafening. 

 

“yes.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but it sure ended with a bang yeah ???


	11. the road trip, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kristopher is so sexy when he sighs and flips his head as if he’s getting rid of invisible bangs from his eyes. when you met he had what he called a fade and spiked dreadlocks but now he’s shaved them off and his hair grows out naturally but it’s far too short to get in his eyes. you think he’s so used to shaking the locs out still and forgets they aren’t there.
> 
>  
> 
> he says you have great hair, too. short but thin and soft and strawberry blond. he thinks riley’s hair is sexy, too. dark red and long enough that he has to shake his bangs out of his face constantly. you guess the three of you have sexy hair. you should start a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw rape talk again, sexual content

kristopher is silent for several long seconds. they’re the most crucial seconds of your life so far, even more important than the ones following,  _ “i’m gay,”  _ to your mother. how he responds to your confession matters. will he be upset? understanding? is he gonna hit you? if you were dating riley and someone told you they were in love with him, you’d hit them. 

 

but kristopher is a gentle giant. he isn’t like that. 

 

you think about a lot in those precious few seconds. the first time riley came to you, confused, concerned that he was just raped. you didn’t know what to say at the time because you thought rape was straightforward and obvious. if he wasn’t sure then clearly it wasn’t rape. you’d do anything to take that moment back. it’s not like you laughed in his face but,  _ “i think you’d know,” _ doesn’t instill confidence. but you both understand now you were just young and dumb. and abuse victims. 

 

you remember riley’s experience with your mom hitting you in front of him. he’d still been presenting as female then but he stared at you with a familiar shock, the kind he’s always had regardless of his identity. his mouth half-open, desperately trying to pretend he hadn’t just seen something that was going to send him into a tailspin. riley is the type to hit back, but he knew better than to say anything to her in the moment lest you get it worse. he tried to mention it afterwards but you just shrugged as tears stung the back of your eyes, eager not to cry in front of your cool friend. 

 

the time you and riley got stuck in the rain. you had to walk home from school when you missed the bus and he grabbed your hand when it started raining, pulled you under an awning and cuddled up close- neither of you had a jacket and you were wet, huddling for warmth outside a car supply store. the people walking by offered nothing to your broke, high school selves, you just stood there so close to riley you could smell the cherry blossom shampoo he used. that’s when you started putting more work into your grooming routine. 

 

playing video games. laser tag. ghosts in the graveyard. you had a really full life with riley before kristopher ever showed up. 

 

“are you serious?”

 

that’s what kristopher comes up with. that’s what you get after seven seconds of nothingness. 

 

“...no,” you try, wondering why you’re not freaking out more. kristopher snorts. 

 

“you’re serious.”

 

you don’t respond. life is about to be a lot different. 

 

“i thought you might be.”

 

“then why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“thought i might be being arrogant.”

 

“how is that arrogant?”

 

“dating the guy everybody wants,” he says quickly. “riley could have had his pick of anyone but he chose me.”

 

“the same could be said for you.”

 

“but he chose me.”

 

his tone turns dark, almost threatening and it makes your eyes widen in surprise. you don’t say anything immediately, just will your heart to stop beating so fast. 

 

“i know.”

 

“he could’ve chosen you,” he says. “but he didn’t, did he?”

 

“what are you trying to accomplish?”

 

“i’m trying to tell you that if you want me to fuck you right now, i will. we can be fucking when riley gets back. he can join in. i can sit in the corner and watch you fuck him. i could  _ leave  _ and let you two do whatever you wanted without me around.” you feel the bed spring as he turns over and you know he’s facing you now. “and he still wouldn’t have chosen you.”

 

you grit your teeth. you go from fear to anger and sit up, allowing the blanket to pool around your hips as you turn over too, confronting kristopher’s blazing eyes with your own fiery rage. 

 

“he chose me before he knew you existed, you sadistic prick. and if he had to choose between me and you, he’d pick me.”

 

“you think so?”

 

“you get to fuck him, but that’s all it is.”

 

“and it’s the only thing you don’t get. and you want it so bad you can taste it.”

 

“don’t be a creep,” you seethe. “i don’t care about fucking riley. all i care about is if he loves me back and he does.”

 

“not the way you love him,” kristopher says with a smile. what an evil fucker. just a plain bad person, that’s kristopher. he’s delighting in this. in your secret pain. 

 

“you’re a dick and riley deserves better than you.”

 

“like you?”

 

“yeah,” you nod. “and if not me, then at least not you.”

 

“you call me a dick but you’ve been scheming behind my back forever, haven't you? you’ve been trying to fuck riley every time you two are alone. holding his hand. cuddling. pulling him into your lap. you just love it. you fucking love sticking it to me, don’t you?”

 

“not as much as you love talking about sticking it to me,” you mutter. he grins. 

 

“and you want me to, don’t you?” his grin turns snakelike and you half expect a forked tongue to slither out between his teeth. “you’d love to feel my dick in your ass.”

 

“then do it,” you say. “riley brought lube, right? we’re sharing a bed for fuck’s sake, just fuck me right now.”

 

“is that consent?”

 

you turn surprised. you blink at him, wondering if he’s being serious. would he really fuck you right here and now? you’re terrible. you constantly test your limits. 

 

“yeah.”

 

he’s on top of you, lips crashing against yours and you grunt in complete shock. he’s really going to fuck you?  _ he’s really going to fuck you?!  _ you shove him away and turn your face away. 

 

“wait! riley’s not here!”

 

“you really wanna bring him in on this?”

 

“no, but if he’s not around, isn’t it cheating?”

 

“yeah,” kristopher laughs. “but i think he’ll make an exception for you.”

 

“what? why?”

 

“how fucking dumb are you?” kristopher asks incredulously. “i’ve been trying to start a threesome with you for months. we’ve both been trying to. me more than riley because he thinks it’s awkward but he wants it, too.”

 

you’re speechless. the new information is so bizarre to you and your body starts shaking. it just shakes out of anxiety and excitement and sin and patience and fear and kristopher furrows his brow at you. 

 

“are you okay?”

 

“no!” you scream. “what do you mean riley wants it too?!”

 

“what i said,” he shrugs. “we tried a threesome with a stranger and it wasn’t as fun as it seemed. we want to try with someone we know.”

 

“so it would just be an experiment for your fucking sex life?”

 

“well, i really didn’t think you had real feelings for him so i thought if you could get passed the awkwardness of sleeping with your best friend then it would be fine, but… i guess it would be a bad idea if you harbor actual feelings for him.”

 

hot tears are streaming down your face before you even realize it. you want to matter. you want to mean something. you want riley to love you but more than that, you want sex to be meaningless. you want sex to mean nothing to you. you want all of this to be a pointless conversation because you’re above it. you’re too important for a threesome, and you’re especially not going to cry over one. but you’re not important. and you are crying. 

 

“kiran?”

 

“just- i don’t- how can you just  _ say  _ all that and then take it all back just like that? tell me you want a threesome then rescind it and expect things to be like they were?”

 

“you’re the one who said you have feelings for riley,” kristopher points out nonchalantly. he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care at all. after a lifetime of stress and anxiety, dreading the day someone found out your feelings for riley, the person who did find out is not only his  _ boyfriend,  _ but he doesn’t even  _ care.  _ “i don’t know. how do you feel about a threesome with us? i think it’s a bad idea after all.”

 

“so you’re just going to tell riley to drop it?” you ask angrily. “and he’s just going to do that? when has riley ever been that way? you’re going to tell him. you’re going to get me out of the way once and for all, aren’t you? ruin the most important relationship of my life so that you can finally win.”

 

kristopher doesn’t react at first. he studies you carefully, his blank face so handsome in the light of the streetlamp pouring in from outside. how are you supposed to sleep with that thing on?

 

“kiran,” he says finally, gearing up for something that will surely make you want to punch him. “that’s  _ you.” _

 

you blink. 

 

“what?”

 

“you’re the one who wants to win,” he says. you’re the one who makes it about winning in the first place. i’ve never had anything against you, you just never liked me. and rightfully so, i guess i took the love of your life from you… in hindsight, it should’ve been more obvious you have feelings for riley. you never liked me. and for no good reason.”

 

“that’s not true.”

 

“it’s absolutely true,” he says. “evidenced by your saying it in the first place.”

 

“you’ve never liked me either,” you counter. “you really want me to believe all this sudden flirting was because you wanted a threesome?”

 

“yes.”

 

he says it so easily that all you can do is blink again. 

 

“well- that’s- well- well. well, what the fuck?!”

 

kristopher shrugs. 

 

“i’m not lying,” he says. “i’ve always thought you’re hot. but having sex with you never entered the equation until it did. there are a lot of hot people out there i know i won’t ever have sex with. you were just another on that list. until you weren’t.”

 

“until i wasn’t.”

 

“then you got your own list,” he sighs, finally pulling back and laying to rest on his side. he seems done with the conversation, tired. you’re tired too. “you’re the only one on the potential threesome partners list. looks like we’re out of options.”

 

“but so all that stuff?” you ask. “telling me about fucking riley. getting territorial. being possessive. how was that  _ not  _ you disliking me?”

 

“it was me being an idiot drunk, kiran,” he says dumbly. and that makes enough sense. but you don’t like how easily he’s getting away with all this. 

 

“so what now, then? you just get to tell riley and ruin everything?”

 

his head cocks to the side and he looks at you like you you’re a moron. to be fair, you are. 

 

“i just said this isn’t about winning or losing,” he says. “i won’t tell riley. i don’t  _ want  _ to ruin your relationship with him. and if i didn’t care about you, which i do, i’d care about him. i don’t want to make things with his best friend awkward.”

 

“you care about me?”

 

“of course. you’re riley’s best friend. you make him happy. so you make me happy.”

 

you wonder if he knows he’s echoing your words back to you. of course, you couldn’t come out and admit the last part. he had no problem saying it. you grit your teeth in frustration. 

 

“yeah, well you make me happy, too!” you shout angrily, nose crinkled and brow furrowed. “and i care about you!”

 

“thanks,” kristopher says. “weirdo.”

 

it’s silent. kristopher has nothing to continue with and neither do you. you just want to go to sleep and you think kristopher does, too. 

 

“so you really won’t tell riley?”

 

“no,” kristopher says with a yawn. “i won’t tell riley.”

* * *

 

 

riley bursts into the room that night with such a force of energy that you feel it knock you backwards. he doesn’t make too much noise after opening the door and lets you both sleep. he does exactly as kristopher said he would and grabs kristopher’s jacket to use as a blanket as he curls up on the chair and footrest to sleep. you aren’t sure what time it is but you’re so tired you don’t say anything. you just fall back to sleep. 

 

when you wake up in the morning, you roll over to look at kristopher only to find riley in his place. he’s knocked the fuck out, sleeping so soundly that you can’t stand the thought of waking him. you stare at him for a while and find that you don’t feel any different looking at the sleeping face of an angel than you do staring angrily into the hungry eyes of competition. 

 

that’s what kristopher was to you for so long. competition. but maybe that’s not what he is. not really. maybe you’ve been miscalculating this the whole time. 

 

when do you get matter?

 

you’ve had friends. you’ve had more than riley. more than kristopher. you’ve had carey, your best friend in middle school. audrey, the girlfriend in high school. you have chantal and josie. and they aren’t the only lesbians in your life. you’ve had friends. you’ve had more than riley.

 

but they don’t pull you back in the way riley does. riley is a draw that you can’t escape from. you can’t get away. you’re caught in his grasp and even though your heart doesn’t skip a beat while staring at him right now, you know that he has a hold on you so tight that you might suffocate.

 

“riley.”

 

“mrr.”

 

_ “riley.” _

 

“shut up. sleeping.”

 

“where’s kristopher?”

 

“he’s putting rocks in his pockets and wading into an ocean.”

 

“you’re so eloquent when you’re asleep.”

 

“shut  _ up.” _

 

you shake your head and get out of bed. kristopher is probably at the car you figure, so you grab your hoodie from the bedpost and throw it on while heading out, leaving sleeping beauty to his rest. kristopher isn’t at the car but you turn and see him inside the lobby, sitting in a chair and drinking what you assume to be coffee but could very well be hard liquor at this point.

 

“when do you want to head home?”

 

kristopher looks over at you and registers who you are, then looks away. he makes no effort to register your words however, and you don’t want to repeat them. you sit in the lounge chair next to him and think about how you’d like lillies at your wedding, but if you married kristopher, you’d definitely add some lotus flowers. you can’t exactly pinpoint why, but you feel like kristopher is a lotus flower kind of guy.

 

“i feel like i’m disintegrating.”

 

“what?”

 

“feel like shit.”

 

you look over and stare at kristopher. your friend kristopher.

 

“where’d you get the coffee?” he points at a little coffee bar in the next room over. you laugh. “then it’s probably the coffee.”

 

“huh?”

 

“motel coffee?”

 

“it’s pretty good.”

 

“give me a sip.”

 

he doesn’t question it but he also doesn’t look at you. his hand sweeps left and he keeps staring forward as you take the coffee cup from him and immediately spit out what you try to drink down.

 

“it’s hot.”

 

“no shit!” you shout, liquid dribbling down your chin. you look over and see kristopher is smiling.

 

“and it sucks.”

 

“you’re the fucking worst,” you say to him, standing up and throwing the cup in the trash can. “after our moment last night? how dare you do this to me.”

 

“after our moment last night, how could i do anything but fuck with you?”

 

“i thought we were friends now.”

 

“we were always friends, kiran,” he sighs loudly and stands up, then turns to you and puts his hand out for you to shake. “you’re the one who was holding back.”

 

“so you said.”

 

“it’s true.”

 

you take his hand and shake it.

 

“why are we shaking hands?”

 

“just wanted human touch.”

 

you decide to surprise him. you’re a boring guy, but every now and then you have a shock or two. you pull kristopher into a deep hug, something better described as an embrace than a simple touch. this is human contact. and what surprises you back is that he wraps his arms around you, too. 

 

“thanks,” he says into your ear. “but this is pretty gay.”

 

“good,” you tell him, wondering if you fit well under kristopher’s arm or not; or at least, whether or not you look as good as riley does.

 

you get back on the road in total silence. riley is wrapped up in kristopher’s jacket still and you wonder if  _ now  _ is when you should pick on something. riley isn’t quiet when he’s mad and you assumed he was pretty angry last night. but he isn’t speaking right now. something is wrong. if only you picked up on it.

 

“i want a cigarette.”

 

“you don’t smoke.”

 

kristopher folds his arms over his chest and looks at the gas station door. riley takes forever in the bathroom so you have some time. kristopher could probably grab a pack and smoke a couple before riley comes back out. 

 

“i do when i’m stressed out.”

 

“why are you stressed out?”

 

“riley’s not talking.”

 

“yeah…” you say. “it does seem wrong.”

 

“he loves talking.”

 

“he sure did on the way up yesterday at least.”

 

“maybe we should go up to chicago instead of going home. or stay in st louis for a night. spend some time in a big city we don’t know.”

 

“don’t you have to go to work tomorrow?”

 

“don’t you?”

 

“i didn't suggest we stay out.”

 

kristopher is so sexy when he sighs and flips his head as if he’s getting rid of invisible bangs from his eyes. when you met he had what he called a fade and spiked dreadlocks but now he’s shaved them off and his hair grows out naturally but it’s far too short to get in his eyes. you think he’s so used to shaking the locs out still and forgets they aren’t there. 

 

he says you have great hair, too. short but thin and soft and strawberry blond. he thinks riley’s hair is sexy, too. dark red and long enough that he has to shake his bangs out of his face constantly. you guess the three of you have sexy hair. you should start a club. 

 

kristopher would look  _ really  _ sexy with a cigarette right now. you don’t really like smoking but there is something appealing about the aesthetic. 

 

“you want me to go get you some cigarettes?”

 

kristopher drives with the window down for two hours as he smokes the entire pack at once. riley doesn’t say a thing, he just steals two and smokes them silently.  _ why don’t you realize how weird that is? _

 

“we definitely wanna head home,” kristopher reassures himself before hitting the st louis exit. “just go home and back to work and everything and… home? yeah?”

 

“yeah,” you say. “i have to work tomorrow.”

 

“me too,” riley murmurs. kristopher sighs and skips the exit, heading home and cranking up the radio as he goes. he scans the stations and stops now and then, both at his own discretion and at your request, but riley doesn’t want to listen to anything. he just stares out the window and you sit there like a fart lingering in the air, annoying everyone with your presence, not picking up on anything weird in the air that you should have. 

 

and then robert texts you. 

 

you must make a face. you  _ know  _ you make a face. you wince and scowl at it, at  _ ‘Do you have time tonight to let me make you feel good?’  _ and kristopher must have seen it through the rearview mirror. he must have looked at just the exact correct time. he must have checked on the ringtone noise right as you were reading. fucking incredible. 

 

“who is it?”

 

you look up in surprise. 

 

“what?”

 

“why’d you make that face?”

 

when you understand he’s asking about the text, you shake your head. 

 

“dad.”

 

“i thought you get along with your dad.”

 

“just… he texts me too much information sometimes. prostate exam, ha ha, i don’t wanna know, dad.”

 

“gross,” kristopher murmurs as he looks back to the road. he seems to believe as he bobs his head to the music again and you wish there was something more interesting to look at in missouri but it’s just plain, flat land. 

 

just like you. 

 

“you want me to take you home?” kristopher asks a few hours later, when you’re coming up on your exit. “or you coming over for a bit?”

 

you didn’t expect to come over at all, but he’s sort of offering and you wonder why you and kristopher became so close on this trip. 

 

“why would he come over? it’s almost 9, we need to go to bed.”

 

right. because riley was insufferable. 

 

“alright,” kristopher says angrily. “settle down. i was just asking.”

 

“i’m just saying it’s late.”

 

_ “alright,  _ riley,” kristopher says and you can tell he’s about to snap. “i’ll take him fucking home.”

 

“don’t cuss about it.”

 

“can i help you?” kristopher asks. “seriously. what’s wrong? can i please help you so you can stop being a spoiled little brat?”

 

“spoiled?” riley asks. “how am i  _ spoiled?” _

 

“riley gets to just go wherever he wants! he gets to talk all day about stuff that makes everyone else uncomfortable and doesn’t stop and then just fucking takes the car and strands everyone else at a shitty motel. what if we’d needed to somewhere?”

 

“take a cab, genius.”

 

“the point is i shouldn’t have to pay for a cab when i have a car, except my boyfriend decided to steal it.”

 

“just take us home, kris.”

 

“don’t call me kris. you don’t get to call me  _ kris  _ right now.”

 

he’s snapped. 

 

“what a stupid thing to police,  _ kristopher,”  _ riley spits. “just take us home and then you can yell all you want but don’t make kiran listen to it.”

 

“i don’t need to yell, i’m not yelling,” he says and to be fair, he’s right. “you just don’t like what i’m saying. because i’m calling you out. for being a spoiled fucking brat.”

 

“you’re so boring,” riley says as he rams the back of his head against the headrest. “you call me a brat when you’re horny too, why don’t you just spank me then? you’ll feel better.”

 

“i don’t spank you as hard as i could,” kristopher says. “i’d eviscerate you.”

 

“that’s hot.”

 

“you’re a fucking mess.”

 

“yeah well i was fucking raped at that party two weeks ago so who’s surprised?”

 

it’s almost scripted when you and kristopher both cry,  _ “what?!”  _ and kristopher slams on the breaks, turns into the next lane and pulls off onto the shoulder despite riley’s protests. 

 

“oh fucking stop, i just wanna be home.”

 

“what do you mean you were raped?” kristopher asks, turning to face his boyfriend as you unbuckle your seatbelt to sit forward and invade riley’s space further. 

 

“what are you  _ talking  _ about?!” he shouts. “i was  _ raped,  _ that’s all there is to it!”

 

“but what - what happened?” you ask. “what - how did it happen? i was there. i was there and i lost you. and that - was happening?”

 

“kiran, it’s not on you,” kristopher say and riley turns to you immediately. 

 

“this has nothing to do with you,” he says solemnly. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

he says more, but you miss it.  _ did  _ you do something wrong? you kind of wanted him drunk that night. did you get him drunk? were  _ you  _ taking advantage? is this your fault? did this happen because of you?

 

you wanted to fuck him. you did, and you do. you still want to. you would’ve tried that night. were you going to rape riley? no. of course not. if riley rejected you, you’d take it. you’d fall apart but you’d never take him by force. 

 

he’s explaining what happened but you can’t listen. not because the situation itself hurts - although it does - but because all you can do is think that this is your fault. this happened because  _ you  _ got him drunk and then lost him. this is your fucking fault. 

 

“i’m sorry,” you say. you interrupt him to say it and he looks at you in confusion so you continue: “i got you drunk that night.” you look over at kristopher sheepishly and watch as it dawns on him that you had a plan for that night that didn’t unfold. you don’t even remember what it was anymore. did you really think that you’d be able to fuck him? that you’d be able to get away with that without admitting how you felt? surely you weren’t so brazen as to think you’d tell him you loved him that night but at this point, you truly can’t remember. robert had you in a weird spot. “i wanted to have a good time without kristopher. you two were fighting and i wanted it to be like it used to be. just us. no boyfriends. and then i lost you.”

 

“it’s not your fault,” riley says again. “seriously. it’s no one’s fault that some girl out there is an asshole and will shove her fingers wherever she wants.” you’d miss the part where it was a girl, but you don't really care one way or another. “it’s only her fault. and even she probably has some tragic backstory.”

 

“stop humanizing these people, that’s the hardest part to hear,” kristopher says and you’re weirdly relieved to hear him continue his antagonism. “she sucks. she’s a bitch.”

 

“can we please go home? i only said it to win an argument like an asshole. i don’t want to talk about it right now.”

 

kristopher takes you home with riley’s hand in his the whole way and you text robert back at ten til midnight.

 

_ you up? _

 

he doesn’t get back to you. not even robert forgives you this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my vent fic so its not like i proof or edit it and i didnt organize or plan it at all but does anyone want to leave a comment and let me know if this sucks or not


	12. all hallow's eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i was trying to fuck riley at that party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw sexual content, rape mentions

 

you know riley is getting irritated but your newfound friendship with kristopher is being taken to a new level tonight. you say it’s newfound even though to kristopher it’s old news, but it’s wild to you that two people could have such opposing views on their own relationship with each other. kristopher always liked you and the only reason you didn’t like him back was because you thought he hated you. well, that, and he’s dating the love of your life. but now he  _ knows  _ that and seems true to his word. he hasn’t told riley. nothing’s changed. he meant it when he said he’d never tell and you’re shocked, quite frankly. you still don’t know why you told him; you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer and needed someone to know. someone level-headed and easygoing like kristopher. you told him. you told the most dangerous man alive about your feelings and so far it hasn’t backfired. you don’t trust that. 

 

but anyway, riley is getting sick of you both, but he admitted to the rape at the party a few weeks ago and neither of you feel very safe leaving him alone tonight. you know it’s  _ his  _ house and  _ his  _ party but he loves strangers. he could still find himself in a less than thrilling situation. but he hates being stalked by the two of you, so he keeps flitting from room to room with an annoyed expression, lips pursed and eyes rolling to the back of his skull. he keeps trying to lose you. but you and kristopher made a silent agreement. you’d tail him and make sure he’s safe. especially because tonight is halloween so who knows what’ll happen on this, the sluttiest holiday of the year. 

 

riley has a black cat suit on, skintight and compressing his chest, with black ears and eyeliner whiskers, eyeliner eyeliner and a long tail attached just above his ass that trails on the floor because he’s so short. he looks amazing and kristopher catches you staring a few times but doesn’t say anything. he seems overly cool with you coveting his boyfriend and if you weren’t eternally grateful for his silence, you’d feel sorry for yourself. but he’s got his vampire fangs in, fake blood dripping down his chin, and he looks just as sexy as riley. riley drew eye black on your upper cheeks with his eyeliner when you showed up to complete your baseball tee and pants look and you feel underdressed compared to them but at least you’re wearing  _ something _ . there are people here wearing mouse ears and party hats, smoking fake cigars and wearing sunglasses and somehow that counts as a costume. riley thinks there should be stricter house rules about what constitutes a costume but kristopher posed the excellent question,  _ “do you want a costume contest or do you want to flirt?”  _ and riley grumbled to himself that it was the latter and walked off into a group of dancing drunks. chantal and josie are in impossibly short skirts, one is a guitar and the other a microphone, two of the more creative yet esoteric costumes you’ve seen tonight. 

 

“nice eyeliner,” chantal says as you walk by her to get another drink. you point at your eye black and she nods. “riley do that for you?” you nod again and she replies, “i figured you didn’t own eyeliner.”

 

why everything she says has to sound so sarcastic is beyond you. you frown and head to the alcohol table for another beer. kristopher finds you there with a grin. he leans one forearm on the table and lounges at you aggressively. 

 

“is chantal being a bitch?”

 

“kinda,” you shrug. “why?”

 

“she’s nervous.”

 

“about what?”

 

“she’s proposing tonight.”

 

you almost spit your beer out. 

 

“what?! on halloween?!”

 

“halloween is josie’s favorite halloween. i mean holiday. i’m drunk.”

 

“it’s riley’s favorite too isn’t it?”

 

“yeah but josie likes to sew and craft and make costumes,” kristopher waves. “riley’s just a slut.”

 

“such a glowing review of your boyfriend.”

 

“deny it.” he sounds a little goofy trying to speak through his fangs. “you can’t.”

 

you look around the room. riley isn’t in it and you sigh to yourself. you don’t want to treat him like a child. and whatever happened to him isn’t his fault. but you still feel guilty. responsible. you turn to kristopher and eye him cautiously. he’s staring at something across the room until he feels your eyes on him. 

 

“what?”

 

“kristopher, i…”

 

“you can call me kris if you want.”

 

you’re taken aback. 

 

“i can?”

 

“don’t take it all personal,” he mumbles. “i’m just giving you permission and i don’t let a lot of people call me that so take my blessing with gratitude and move on.”

 

well, he told you to move on. 

 

“i was trying to fuck riley at that party.”

 

kristopher blinks. 

 

“haven’t we been through this?”

 

“i mean… it’s my fault. i got him drunk. i wanted him drunk. so he might make a bad decision with me. it’s such a terrible thing to do to a friend, i don’t know why i did it or wanted it, i just, i made this sex tape and i tho-”

 

“whoa, what?”

 

“i thought i was bigger than i was.”

 

“sex tape?”

 

“i made a sex tape!” you shout angrily and that’s enough for kristopher. he grabs your shoulder and leads you outside into the frigid air, wrapping his cape around him. you shiver immediately. 

 

“calm down,” he tells you. “what’s gotten into you?”

 

“i just told you.”

 

“you’re  _ not  _ at fault for what happened to riley,” he says. “no one is but the person who did it. who was a complete stranger, by the way. just some dumb bitch who thought it was wild that riley had a vagina. she was fetishizing him and drunk and violated him. it had nothing to do with you. if you think he wouldn’t have been drunk on his own you’re sorely mistaken.”

 

“but i wanted to be the one,” you say quietly through grit teeth. “the one to violate him.”

 

“no you didn’t,” kristopher says. “you wouldn’t violate riley. you wanted him to choose you. you wanted him drunk so he was more likely to make a mistake but you wanted him to do it of his own volition.”

 

“why aren’t you beating the shit outta me right now?” you shiver violently imagining a punch to the teeth in this chill and kristopher’s face turns dark. 

 

“believe me, i kinda want to,” he says, opening his cape and throwing it around you. you huddle into him for warmth. “but you’re like the runt of the litter. i can’t hurt you.”

 

“wow, what the fuck?”

 

“had to insult you somehow if i can’t beat you up. you  _ did  _ try to fuck my boyfriend. and i know i talk shit on him a lot but he  _ is  _ still my boyfriend. and i love him. and don’t want to lose him.”

 

“but wouldn’t mind a threesome.”

 

“that was before,” he says. “before i knew you had feelings. it wouldn’t be a good idea now.”

 

“did i really hide it that well?”

 

“yeah,” kristopher nods. “you act like his friend. you’re his friend, kiran. a good friend. he needs you. i don’t know what he’d do if he found out you liked him.”

 

“i don’t like him,” you say. “you don’t understand. you asked if i was in love with him. and i said yes. i’m… hopeless. i’m a goner. i won’t ever love anyone the way i love riley.”

 

“you’re drunk.”

 

“i’m not,” you insist. “i’m trying to get you to understand. i’m in  _ love  _ with riley.”

 

then kristopher asks the simplest question:

 

“why?”

 

you’re not sure why you don’t expect it. why does it catch you so off guard? you’re not sure. 

 

“what?”

 

“why?” he repeats. “why are you  _ so  _ in love with riley?”

 

“i- y- you wouldn’t understand.” you pause. “we were neighbors. he was the boy next door. you don’t just get over the boy next door.”

 

“but how come?” he asks. “why does he have  _ such  _ a hold on you?” 

 

“he’s your boyfriend, shouldn’t you understand?”

 

“yes,” he says with such a force that is almost knocks you over. he throws an arm around you and holds you close. you’re both cold. “i understand completely. i want to know if  _ you  _ understand.”

 

“if i understand what?”

 

“do you have a good reason to be so in love? or have you just assumed that you’ll never be over him and accepted this as how it is?”

 

the full force of this conversation hits you suddenly. you’re talking to someone who wants to fuck you about how in love with his boyfriend you are and he’s acting like your therapist instead of tearing your head off. 

 

“this is a weird conversation.”

 

“why?”

 

“we should either be fucking or enemies. not this weird in between.”

 

“you wanna go inside and fuck?”

 

“no.”

 

“you wanna go inside and fight?”

 

“i’d rather fuck.”

 

“either way, i’d pulverize you.”

 

you kiss him because his happy little grin is so infuriating you have to get rid of it. it doesn’t surprise him too much; you grab his face and pull him close but it’s a quick, angry kiss. he’s still grinning when you part, and there’s a sudden, sharp tap on your shoulder afterwards. you turn to see riley staring down at you both and your heart skips a beat. he saw the kiss for sure, but does he care?

 

“the lesbians just got engaged,” he says, folding his arms over his chest with a small smirk of his own. “you missed it. but i guess you had more important things to do out here.”

 

“i was just trying to make him stop grinning at me,” you mutter, throwing the cape off your shoulders and standing up. kristopher stands up too and puts his arm around riley, who snuggles in close to him. you suppose he isn’t angry. in fact, he nods and says, “ah, yeah. that kristopher grin. makes me lose my mind, too.”

 

you go back inside and find josie, who’s sobbing in the middle of a big crowd with a ring on her finger and you congratulate her with a kiss on the cheek. she gives you a big hug and says you’re gonna be in the wedding, which makes you laugh. she’s drunk and hyper and chantal won’t let go of her.

 

they’re a perfect couple. the only couple perfecter than them doesn’t exist. not yet. 

 

and the worst couple on earth pops back into existence when your phone goes off. it’s robert, asking to see your costume and you don’t know why but you go into riley’s room, find the full length mirror and make sure your ass is sticking out when you take the picture. 

 

you think about all the stupid shit you’ve done in your life. all the embarrassing things you’ve enjoyed. the things you’re guilty of hating. how excited you’ve gotten over something small. when you didn’t cry over something significant. you’ve felt shame and humiliation. they're terrible feelings. but even worse when they’re at your own hands. no one else’s fault but your own. 

 

_ You look so good. Have fun at your party. I can’t believe no one is bedding you right now.  _

 

you cringe at the term ‘bedding.’ you shake your head but just feel more determined to hate yourself so you lower your baseball pants and cover your dick with your hand, take a picture and send it to him. he’s frothing at the mouth in his reply  _ (Why do you have to do this to me? I guess I asked for it though didn’t I :) Dying this way is exquisite),  _ and you just want to - you don’t know what you want. you want to kiss some more. you want to kiss riley. maybe kristopher. not robert. and not a stranger. but you suppose those are your only options at the moment so you whine to yourself and stamp your foot just before the lights go out. 

 

there’s a collective scream from the living room because it’s impossible to turn the lights off in a crowd of people without people reacting but this was pretty unexpected so you aren’t surprised. you’re lucky your phone is in your hand because it’s pitch black as you press buttons wildly to find your flashlight and make your way out of the bedroom. only a few other phone lights are on and that’s when you hear the thunder. 

 

“ah, shit,” you hear kristopher lamenting from the other room. “i was hoping it was fixable with the fuse box but if it’s a storm…” he trails off and you feel someone whisk by you. it’s riley heading into the bathroom only to emerge with a handful of candles. 

 

“there’s more in there,” he says to you with a grin. you take his lead and head to his bathroom. riley sure likes to live a life of luxury. what you’re certain are dollar store candles line the tub and windowsill and you notice a bottle of bubble bath and a bag of rose petals. you never use the tub so you’ve never had a chance to see riley and kristopher’s romantic bath stuff. you blink slowly and shake away the image of riley on his stomach, bubbles covering his perfect ass, and grab the rest of the candles. one of them knocks the roses to the floor. you don’t pick them up. 

 

“where should they go?” you ask riley, noticing most everyone has their phone flashlights on finally. 

 

“living room.”

 

“leave a couple in the bathroom so people can piss,” kristopher says. “and throw up.”

 

you head back to the bathroom with three candles and a lighter. you make sure they’re steady on the counter and riley bursts in with a flameless led candle he found in the christmas box in the basement. he puts it on the back of the toilet and then, suddenly, closes the door. you turn to him and maybe it’s the candlelight but his face looks - terrifying. 

 

“so,” he drawls. “we’ve been friends since you were born. you don’t even know life without me. and i hardly remember life without you, either.”

 

you blink. you’ve never thought of it that way. you can’t decide if it’s romantic or depressing. 

 

“sure.”

 

“we’ve been through a lot together. i still think about the time i hit a vein with my t shot and you helped clean me up. googled what to do so i wouldn't read horror stories and freak out. that was really nice.”

 

he takes a few steps towards you and grabs the front of your shirt. 

 

“riley, what are y-”

 

he pulls you so forcefully you nearly knock the both of you over. you crash into him and brace yourself on his arms. 

 

“we’re best friends,” he says. you think he might be about to kiss you. he’s dangerously close to your lips. but his own travel further upwards and he pulls you down more so he can whisper into your ear:  _ “so don’t ever kiss my fucking boyfriend again.” _

 

the air in your lungs expels forcefully and inadvertently. you’re so scared in that moment that you’re almost grateful. it  _ is  _ halloween, after all. the holiday of sex and terror. trick or treat. and you already had the treat. 

 

“i- riley…”

 

he pulls away and stares you down, his hand still gripping your shirt and he’s so gorgeous you nearly kiss  _ him.  _

 

“it wasn’t like that, it was just - i just wanted him to shut up and - it’s  _ his  _ fault, he kissed me at the lake house first!”

 

riley’s eyes suddenly turn joyous. you can see a smile tugging on his lips and you’re starting to suspect you just got tricked. 

 

“i’m just kidding!” he shouts. you exhale again and look at him with furrowed brows. 

 

“why would you do that?! i got really scared!”

 

“of what?”

 

“that you were about to murder me!”

 

“pft,” riley snorts. “no. why would i get mad about that?” he turns to go, grabbing the doorknob and slinking between the door and the wall. then he turns back to you. 

 

“you can fuck him for all i care.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short and late chapter but happy belated halloween nonetheless!


	13. insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you’re shutting down and never going to restart. all your files are lost to the ether, the ever expanding but never existing ether, suffusing heaven and earth. but you’re in purgatory right now and that just might be worse than hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw unhealthy sex as usual, that's about it though

 

you’re sleepy a lot lately, even at work, and you’ve never had trouble with this sort of thing. riley used to fall asleep in the middle of everything because of his depression but now you’re the one who can barely keep your eyes open over a thing of yogurt in the break room. robert tries to help. it never helps. 

 

“you up all night with another man?”

 

“no,” you say. you know he's teasing but you really wish you were up all night with another man. “i’m just not sleeping well.”

 

you really don’t know why you’re so tired. you seem to sleep the same as always. you don’t wake up in the middle of the night, you don’t have noisy neighbors or a pet to disturb you. you go to bed at eleven and wake up at seven. you set an alarm but never use it because you wake up at the same time every morning. you’re just sleepy. 

 

“let me come over and keep you up tonight.”

 

“not tonight,” you mumble, rubbing your temples. “i’m…”

 

“too tired?”

 

“fine,” you say, not because you really want him to come over, but when do you ever? you say it because you’re nervous you’ll fall asleep at six in the evening and wake up at two am, raring to go. at least robert will keep you up on your regular schedule. 

 

“really?”

 

“fine,” you repeat with a shrug. “whatever.”

 

so robert shows up at your place at seven, both of you have already eaten and you’re wide awake, ready for the steady pounding you’re about to get. that’s the thing about robert. you don’t like fucking him but he’s very gentle - not literally, he actual fucks you kind of hard, but he’s always the same. he’s steady. robert fucks you rhythmically; easily. you can rely on sex with robert to be the same. it's always the same. 

 

even when it’s on camera. 

 

the stench of lube hangs heavy in the air and you scrunch up your nose at the goopy feel of the condom inside of you. you’ve never really known if it’s the lube or the spermicide that smells so bad, but it doesn’t matter. it’s so disgusting tonight for some reason that you almost retch. robert notices. 

 

“what’s wrong?” he breathes heavily, his dick stilling slightly inside you. you shake your head. you just want it over with. 

 

“keep going.”

 

“why are you making that face?”

 

“keep going.”

 

“not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“the smell,” you say finally, irritated. “it smells fucking awful. just keep going.”

 

“we should get some candles,” he offers. “rose petals.”

 

you wonder if robert would marry you. he says it’s just an insatiable need to fuck you, but candles and roses are what riley and kristopher use, what josie and chantal must use, too. they’re too romantic, candles and rose petals. they’re not what you use when you’re just fucking. robert must be getting sentimental. 

 

“thought this was just fucking,” you smile. “isn’t that a little romantic for just fucking?”

 

“i’ll do romantic with you,” he says. “it doesn’t have to mean anything. like roleplaying.”

 

“roleplaying romance?”

 

“why not? people roleplay rape, why can’t we roleplay marriage?”

 

_ “marriage?” _

 

“or something,” robert says with a little grin, leaning down to kiss your eyebrow. “i can pretend i’m fucking boyfriend. that this is our hundredth fuck. that we do this all the time, we live together and have fucked on every surface of this house. in fact, let’s get kinky tonight.”

 

he pulls out of you and you gasp at the loss. it always feels like you’re shitting yourself when he does it so quickly and for some reason all you can think about as he rummages in his bag is whether or not riley roleplays. do they roleplay rape or romance? does kristopher ever act like an abuser for fun? or does he just dominate, making sure riley is loved in the process? you know riley has darker fantasies. you just don’t know if kristopher indulges them. 

 

you’re not like riley. you like romance. you like the thought of being romantic with one person and one person only. riley thinks it’s boring. he thinks it  _ makes  _ him boring. you just want to matter. you want to feel important. you like to think being with the person you love would make you feel important. that’s why right now, you feel disgusting. 

 

your head spins and your chest is empty. your eyes won’t focus as robert kisses down your face and you feel tingly all over but in a bad way. as if you’re about to faint. all you want is to be alone right now, to fall asleep or at least curl into a ball to implode. you’re a dying star, collapsing in on yourself and destroying your entire system. you feel like you’re going to throw up. thankfully, you keep it down. 

 

“i love you, kiran.”

 

you don’t know how, but you keep it down. 

 

“don’t stop,” you cry, literally cry, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. riley.  _ kristopher.  _ anyone. anything. anything but this. it’s all better than this incapacitating nihilism, devastating your mind and body. all you can do is orgasm. beg robert to let you come. that’s why you cry. because you have to beg him. you’re shutting down and never going to restart. all your files are lost to the ether, the ever expanding but never existing ether, suffusing heaven and earth. but you’re in purgatory right now and that just might be worse than hell. 

 

“i love you, kiran,” he says before he kisses your forehead, before he turns on his heel, before he opens the door and exits your apartment, leaving you in the howling silence of the ether, cackling to itself as it devours you whole. you crumble to the floor and swallow down some vomit. he treats you like a boyfriend. you feel like a dog.

 

you call riley. that’s all you can really do. you need it to be thursday. it’s only tuesday but you  _ need  _ it to be thursday.

 

“riley?”

 

“hey.”

 

“what are you doing right now?”

 

“my boyfriend.”

 

you accidentally sob. you can’t feel the air change over the phone, but riley pauses and you sense a difference in his mood.

 

“kiran?”

 

“please come over.”

 

“what’s wrong?”

 

“nothing, i just… please come hang out with me. i’m bored.”

 

“tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“nothing is wrong,” you assure him. “i just want you to come over and hang out. i’m so bored.” you will your voice to stop cracking, stop bawling, stop coughing. “i’ll buy you alcohol.”

 

“do you really think that little of me?”

 

“yes.”

 

“can you come over here?” riley asks, moving past the joke without another word. “i’m kind of in the middle of a lot of chores… i really had my heart set on getting the house clean tonight but you can come sit with me while i do it.”

 

“i can help,” you offer. “i’d like to help.”

 

“if you want.”

 

“i do. can i spend the night?”

 

“of course. you’ll have to clean the guest room though.” he laughs. “kristopher and i - never mind.”

 

“what?”

 

“we made a real mess of it if you know what i mean. so on second thought, i’ll clean it. you can take the kitchen.”

 

you feel that familiar buzz on the drive over, that one that feels like you’ve cried all you can and you’re all sobbed out. you have no hydration left in your body to expel, you’re a drought; you’re a desert. robert is the sun, beating down on you relentlessly, pounding you with rays of heat and confounding you with sweat. 

 

riley is your oasis. riley is your drink of fresh, cold water when your throat feels like sandpaper. you parched beyond imagination and riley is what quenches your thirst. he quells you. he answers the door in bare feet, shorts and a t-shirt, his hair pulled back by a cloth headband and his chest is clearly unbound. you’re overwhelmed suddenly by the idea that riley trusts you enough to so open around you and wipe at your eyes quickly before riley sees. 

 

“so what’s up?” he asks nonchalantly, but you can tell he’s got an agenda. he thinks something is direly wrong with you and you’re dead set on keeping him from discovering your sudden, emotional breakdown. just seeing his face completes you; hearing his voice is the proclamation that everything is going to be okay.

 

“nothing.”

 

“why’d you get so adamant on coming over?” he asks, his voice still trying to seem as uninterested as possible. but you know him too well. you won’t drop your guard.

 

“i was so bored i was thinking about adopting a cat.”

 

“a cat?”

 

“a bunny,” you correct yourself. “i’d like a rabbit.”

 

“i think you should do it.”

 

you walk into riley’s kitchen and hear some shuffling from the bedroom. it must be kristopher. you turn to your friend, who points at some cleaning supplies on the counter. you reach for them.

 

“you think i should get a little bunny rabbit?”

 

“you’ve wanted one since like, sixth grade. just do it.”

 

it’s true, you’ve always kind of like rabbits and always talked about getting one. you’re just surprised riley seems so suddenly accepting of your answer.

 

“i might. i just didn’t want to tonight.”

 

“i don’t think any pet stores are still open this late anyway.”

 

“i want a craigslist bunny.”

 

“oh,” riley nods, as if it’s a totally common phrase. “well, in that case.”

 

you end up not cleaning. you end up on riley’s laptop, looking at ads on the internet for rabbits. there’s a sugar glider and a chinchilla too, and you’re sort of at a loss. there are too many animals with misspelled and error-riddled ads that you’d like to take just to get them away from whoever was inept enough to make the posts in the first place. 

 

but then you see him. the black rex rabbit. no name. no fee. no supplies. there’s something about him that looks sad in his photos, if a rabbit can look sad, at least. he seems anguished. just like you.

 

you end up emailing the owner.  _ hi, i just had a mental breakdown of sorts and am looking to get a pet now. because i can’t take care of myself so surely i’m the perfect candidate to be responsible for another life, right?  _ you say something along those lines, just with less self-deprecation and more punctuation. you also don’t mention the breakdown. so really, you say nothing of the sort, but that’s definitely how you feel and all you can think about when you close riley’s laptop is the chinchilla and the sugar glider and the ferret and the parakeet and the bulldog puppy and the chiweenie dog and the litter of kittens and the forty different snakes that all need homes. there are so many animals out there that go cold and hungry and die in the wild - and captivity - and you suddenly get sad all over again.

 

“you’re thinking about contacting the other animals too, aren’t you?” riley asks with a smile. you turn to him in alarm. he can read you like a book. you can’t keep anything from him.

 

well. except the obvious.

 

“what are you guys up to?”

 

kristopher appears in the doorway and when you turn to look at him your breath hitches. he’s in compression pants and a tight baseball tee, the perfect image of “just lounging but looking perfect while doing it.” they really are a power couple. you can’t look that good when you  _ try. _

 

“kiran just adopted a bunbun.”

 

“you had to come over here to adopt a pet?”

 

“i just wanted to hang out,” you say. “just - i just wanted to… hang out.”

 

kristopher lifts an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest. he doesn’t believe you any more than riley does and something just snaps:

 

“and i was in a terrible mood,” you say suddenly. “i was throwing up and freaking out and i just needed to be with other people. i-”

 

“why were you throwing up?” riley asks in concern. “are you sick?”

 

“no,” you shake your head. “i’m not - no. it was like an emotional thing.”

 

“you got so emotional you threw up?” kristopher asks. you shrug at him.

 

“yes.”

 

“why were you so emotional?”

 

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” you mutter. “i was just in a terrible mood,” you repeat. you look kristopher in the eye and then riley. “i wanted to be with friends. take my mind off it.”

 

“off what?” riley asks.

 

“the terrible mood.”

 

“i don’t understand what started the terrible mood.”

 

“who knows?!” you accidentally shout as your voice cracks. you can see out of the corner of your eye that kristopher’s head jerks up and he’s looking at you with what you’re sure is a look of concern. stitched eyebrows, pursed lips, as usual. riley sits up on the couch, curling one foot underneath him and leans into you closer. he’s concerned too, especially when he lets out a soft,  _ “kiran,”  _ and it makes you burst into tears.

 

you’re not sure why. you’re not sure why you’re crying. something about how gentle riley speaks, how brashly kristopher cares. something about that all gets to you. it pings something inside you, pins it down like a lion on prey. you can’t believe people care about you. the people you  _ want  _ to care about you actually do, it’s not just robert and not just your dad - not that you feel the same way about your dad as you do robert, it’s just that he’s  _ supposed  _ to give a shit about you. he’s obligated to care. riley and kristopher aren’t. so when they do, you cry.

 

you’re not sure why. it’s not like you didn’t already know that.

 

kristopher is sitting on the other side of you and you’re burying your head in his shoulder before you know what you’re doing. his arms comfort you immediately, wrap around you like a blanket and riley’s hand rests on your shoulder calmly. no one says anything for a long while. you just sob into kristopher’s shirt and watch yourself stain it wet with tears. riley’s hand eventually starts massaging you. it feels so good that you groan a little bit. you haven’t had anyone rub you like that in a long time. when was your last massage? robert, a few weeks ago. it didn’t feel this good.

 

“kiran?”

 

his voice is still soft and it makes you yelp again.

 

“kiran, are you okay?”

 

you look up. you pick your head up and you’re so close to kristopher’s lips that you just lean in and kiss him. you’re a mess. you’re a big mess. 

 

but kristopher doesn’t stop you.

 

he doesn’t kiss you back, but he isn’t breaking the kiss off. it’s lasting for a few seconds. now a few seconds longer. your lips haven’t moved because you’re too mortified to do anything but you can’t back down for some reason. you’re in this now. this kiss. you’re in this kiss and suddenly riley’s hand isn’t on your shoulder anymore. it’s on your waist.

 

he’s leaning up and embracing your back. his hands gently crawl from the back of your head to your jawline, then toward your mouth and across to kristopher’s cheeks. his breath is in your ear. you’re not sure what’s happening, you just know that you did something stupid and now you’re about to adopt a rabbit and riley is moving kristopher’s lips.

 

he’s making kristopher kiss you back. 

 

so kristopher does kiss you back. 

 

“we shouldn’t,” he whispers. riley’s hands come back to your shoulders as he braces himself against you.

 

“why not?” he asks, just as quietly. you know what they’re talking about. you shouldn’t do this. not a threesome. you can’t. kristopher and you both know you can’t. but riley -

 

“we just shouldn’t.”

 

riley doesn’t respond. 

 

something snaps. 

 

you whirl around and grab riley, pull him close and kiss him hard. you’re holding his face in your palms and rubbing circles just under his temples as you force him downward with such a harsh embrace; he moans beneath you and it makes your dick twitch. you’ve never done  _ this  _ before. you have it. you finally have it. you finally have riley. underneath you. squirming. sighing. trembling.

 

“i said we shouldn’t.”

 

but kristopher doesn’t make a move to stop you. you pull away from riley who’s now flat on his back on his own couch, and he looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

 

“we just did.”

 

riley grabs you and kisses you again.

 

“is this weird?” he asks breathlessly. “to kiss your childhood best friend?”

 

“you’re the one who looked at me as a little brother,” you say helplessly. you just want to kiss him some more. 

 

“didn’t you see me as an older one?”

 

“but i always wanted to fuck you,” you say. “you’re the one who changed his mind.”

 

riley’s mouth is open, not being he’s speaking or kissing, but because he’s shocked. you realize what you just said and your mouth opens too, scrambling to think of how to take it back. you throw a look over your shoulder at kristopher for help, but he’s staring you down with grave eyes, angry but a little concerned; a little sympathetic. you look back at riley who’s still looking at you like you have something to explain, which you do.

 

“what do you mean you’ve always wanted to fuck me?”

 

“i just meant - come on,” you try to act nonchalant. “i just meant you’re hot. do you know how weird it is to grow up with a hot older brother?” you laugh noncommittally, trying your hardest to seem casual about the whole thing. “it’s not like i’ve fantasized about it. i just never thought it would be weird.  _ you’re  _ the one who looked at me as a little baby.”

 

“you’re not a little baby anymore,” riley says as if he’s trying to convince someone - maybe himself. “you’re an adult and can make your own choices now. but…”

 

“but what?”

 

“i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

 

you still. kristopher’s hand claps down on your shoulder and pulls you backwards. you let him. you sit upward on your haunches and kristopher’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest.

 

“let’s take a second to breathe,” he says. “you came over here with a problem. having sex isn’t going to fix that.”

 

“it is,” you mumble.

 

“it’s  _ not,”  _ he says, and you understand what he’s saying. he’s not saying,  _ ‘fucking won’t make you feel better about robert.’  _ he’s saying,  _ ‘fucking riley is only going to make your feelings for him worse.’  _ but he’s the one who put the image in your head the first time. sandwiched between them, your dick in riley’s perfect ass and kristopher’s perfect dick in your own. it’s his own fault you have the fantasy in the first place.

 

“we all want this,” you insist. “we all want to do this. we’re all sober and of sound mind. let’s do this.”

 

“it won’t help anything,” kristopher says. riley shakes his head.

 

“it’s not supposed to help anything,” he says. “it’s just sex.”

 

“it’s not just sex when it’s with someone we know,” kristopher says. “this isn’t some stranger from grindr. this is kiran. your best friend. your little brother. this needs more planning than just kiran coming over when he’s mentally weak. he still hasn’t even told us what’s wrong.”

 

“nothing’s wrong, i’m just in a bad mood,” you say once again. “please. let’s go to the bedroom.”

 

“come on, kris.” riley jerks his head toward the back of the house. “let’s go.”

 

“i’m not consenting,” he says and you and riley both sigh in exasperation. that’s it. that’s the nail in the coffin. this isn’t happening.

 

“why?” riley asks.

 

“because i’m not.”

 

“i’m not saying you have to, i’m saying you wanted this for a long time and now you suddenly don’t?” riley sits up and reaches across you to slap kristopher’s knee. “look at me. what changed? why didn’t you tell me?”

 

kristopher looks from his boyfriend to you. he stares deep into your eyes and you beg him with your own to please,  _ please  _ keep keeping your secret. keep keeping it close to his heart. keep keeping it away from riley’s prying eyes. don’t tell him. don’t tell him how much you love him.

 

“because i have feelings for kiran.”

 

your first thought is that he’s joking.

 

your second thought is that he’s lying to keep your secret.

 

your third thought is that riley is so close to you that you might explode. 

 

your fourth thought it to check riley’s face. he’s a little shell shocked and that’s how you know this is serious. your fifth thought is kristopher is telling the truth. your fifth thought is realizing that kristopher has  _ always  _ had feelings for you. your fifth thought is that you and kristopher started out rocky because of how you felt about riley, but he actually always kind of liked you. he always had a thing for you sexually, but he also had a thing for you romantically, which somehow makes sense to you all at once. despite your efforts, the two of you got along. he opened up to you, that day he threw up in the trash can by the front door. he spilled his guts in more ways than one. he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t trust you. you opened up back, because you trusted him, too.

 

your sixth thought is that you might have feelings for kristopher, too.

 

“i didn’t want to say anything and ruin the friendships,” kristopher says and you know for certain he’s being honest. “i didn’t want to ruin my relationship with kiran or the relationship between the two of you.”

 

“what about  _ our  _ relationship? did you think about that one?” riley asks angrily and you’re a little surprised. you forgot he’d have all the room to be angry about the fact that his boyfriend is saying he doesn’t have exclusive feelings for him, though you don’t know why he minds: he thinks romance is boring. 

 

“not as much,” kristopher says honestly. “because i still have feelings for you, too. how i feel about kiran has nothing to do with how i feel about you. i just feel the same for you both.”

 

“and you’re telling me this now?” he asks, seething behind his teeth. “we’ve had… countless conversations about threesomes and kiran and spilling our guts to each other and you’re just  _ now  _ saying this, dropping this to me in  _ front  _ of kiran?”

 

you have to admit, you feel a little good about yourself. you hate to cause a rift, but… you love that you caused a rift.

 

maybe you’re not that boring after all.

 

“it’s not like he’s some manic pixie dream girl,” kristopher sighs. “i just have romantic feelings for him and i don’t think it’s appropriate for us all to fuck unless it’s addressed.”

 

“no, it’s not appropriate,” riley says, standing up and rushing to leave the room. he turns around in the doorway and shouts, “it’s not appropriate to try to fuck my best friend!” then he looks at you and says, very plainly: “fucking homewrecker.”

 

but he doesn’t leave. 

 

he should be turning and storming out. he should be  _ pissed  _ and he is pretty pissed but he should be  _ dumping kristopher and packing up his stuff _ pissed. he shouldn’t be standing there, staring between the two of you, realizing that he’s not blameless in all this. he agreed to a threesome with his best friend from childhood. he knew what that entailed. he knew what it meant. 

 

he’s aware of himself. he’s aware of what he’s done.

 

“you’re not a homewrecker,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry.”

 

“it’s okay.”

 

“it’s my fault,” he says. kristopher looks up at him curiously. “i stopped being interesting. i turned into a complacent, fat asshole. i cheated and flirted and whatever. it’s my own fault.”

 

“riley, if i wanted to dump you, i would,” kristopher says as he stands up and walks to his boyfriend slowly. “i still have…  _ intense  _ feelings for you. just because i have a crush on kiran too doesn’t mean the way i feel about you went away.”

 

“how do you like kiran?”

 

“what?”

 

“explain your feelings for kiran.”

 

“i… can’t…” he says, conflicted. “can you explain your feelings for me?”

 

riley looks away with a pout. it’s adorable. kristopher leans in.

 

“no,” he grumbles as kristopher kisses his forehead. you look out the window and breathe out hard. you’re not sure how this all happened. you’re not sure why kristopher chose now to confess to this. you’re not sure why you aren’t doing the same.

 

“i…”

 

they both look over at you. you can’t finish your thought. you think you want to admit to it. you think you want to admit to all of it.

“i…”

 

do it. say it. say it, kiran. don’t be such a fucking coward.

 

“i… should probably go home.”

 

they don’t stop you. they’re looking at each other as you’re leaving out the front door and you stand for a second, wondering if you made the right choice. this way you can still admit to everything. you still have that option. if you had told them now, it would’ve been done. it would’ve been all over.

 

maybe that’s a good thing.

 

you get a reply from the owner of the bunny on your way home. you’re sitting a stoplight when your phone goes off and you pull into a parking lot to let them know you could come get the bunny right now or tomorrow.

 

you end up falling asleep that night with a new rabbit hopping around your bedroom floor. you name him parker. when you wake up, you feel rested for the first time in weeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey what's up. feel free to leave a comment if you're enjoying this because i still wonder where all the hits come from.


	14. crossing the streams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and then there were four.

 

parker keeps you company. over thanksgiving, your dad comes to your place with a small turkey and you ruin the holiday by asking if it’s so small because it was a baby when they killed it. but once he leaves, it’s just you and parker. your dad’s a busy guy. you stick with parker because you sure don’t want robert around right now and the only other two people you can think about…

 

they haven’t called in a week. no texts, no voicemails, nothing. you know it was thanksgiving but usually riley gives you a happy thanksgiving text at least, and this year you got nothing. you were too afraid to initiate contact either so it’s been a week and you’re all alone. 

 

well, not alone. you have parker. 

 

you know you need to say something soon. you need to make contact, touch base and see how much damage was done. you hope they can get through it - or do you? what’s the best outcome for you here? what gives you the maximum amount of pleasure with a minimum of pain? they break up and riley dates you? and what about kristopher? poor guy has feelings for you, it would really suck for him to lose you both but then again, why should you care?

 

...because in the end, you must admit, you care about kristopher. you care a lot, to the point that you could reasonably say you have feelings for him too, you’re just not sure they could rival the ones for riley. 

 

but do you even really like riley?

 

he hasn’t really been himself lately but with his mom’s cancer scare and the party rape, you can also reasonably say he  _ shouldn’t  _ be himself. he’s been dealing with a lot lately and that’s why he’s not like he was at 17. or 21. or even 25. 

 

but have you just given yourself over to the concept? that you’re irrevocably in love with this boy when really, you haven’t evaluated how you feel in a long time. you just assumed you still felt the same you did growing up. maybe you don’t care about riley anymore. maybe you only feel for kristopher. maybe they’ll break up and you’ll take him instead. maybe you are kind of a homewrecker. 

 

it's a week and a half later when you lay in the bath, phone clutched tightly, that you finally decide to text them. you open up the group text and think about what to say…

 

_ hey. i need to talk to you guys. i don’t know what conclusions you’ve come to but at some point you need to talk to me again. text me _

 

you leave the ball in their court. and two minutes later, riley’s name is in your caller id. 

 

“what are you doing right now?”

 

“uh,” you look down at the bathwater. “nothing. i mean, taking a bath, but… nothing.”

 

“oh,” riley’s voice comes through as if nothing ever happened. “some personal time.”

 

“no,” you say quickly. “my hands are above the water.”

 

“you don’t have to justify it to me,” riley says. you can tell he’s grinning. “come over when you’re done jacking off.”

 

“i’m not- you can’t just act like nothing happened,” you say. “why do you want me to come over?”

 

“uh, so we can talk about what happened?” he says as if you’re dumb and to be fair, he’s correct. “that okay?”

 

“you wanna come here instead and meet my rabbit?”

 

“you actually got one?”

 

“yeah, the night… that- night. i ended up going over at like, ten p.m. and took him. his name is parker.”

 

“alright, we’ll be right there. or should we give you time to finish up?”

 

“again, not masturbating,” you say. “just taking a bath.”

 

“do you do that often?”

 

“not really.”

 

“because for me, ‘bath’ is usually code for i’m horny but can’t touch anyone else right now and just need do myself.”

 

“ah,” you say thoughtfully. “for me it’s code for taking a bath.”

 

“well dry off, we’ll be right there.”

 

you hang up flabbergasted that he can act so normal, just like he used to, as if nothing happened. even joke about jerking off. being too personal about sex. how is he okay? how is he acting like his life is the same? as if nothing big ever happened?

 

you’re dried off and in sweatpants and a t-shirt when there’s a knock on your door. you’ve been sitting on the couch with parker and think better of leaving him behind so you bring him to the door with you. you’re tucking a bunny under your arm as you open the door. 

 

to see robert. 

 

you don’t think anything at first. robert has knocked on your door plenty of times, been on the other side of the threshold more than you can count. to you, for a moment, it makes perfect sense that he would be here. 

 

then you realize he’s not who you’re waiting for. what’s more, you realize who you  _ are  _ waiting for will be here any minute. 

 

“no,” you say instinctively. “no, robert, you cannot be here.”

 

“i know i shouldn’t drop by but i was nearby and just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

 

“i don’t care, not tonight, you have to go.”

 

“please, kiran. i just want to talk.”

 

“we’ll talk tomorrow.”

 

“not at work,” he laments. “i need to talk to you now.”

 

you hear what is unmistakably riley’s laugh coming up the stairwell. 

 

“oh no,” you whisper to yourself. they can’t meet. these two worlds cannot come together. these are separate kirans, two different beings and crossing the streams is just - it can’t happen. 

 

but it does. 

 

riley is looking up at kristopher coyly when they turn the corner and kristopher has that smirk in place, staring down at his boyfriend with heavy lidded eyes. they’re only like that for a moment but it feels like an eternity to you. those last few fleeting seconds before these two realities come crashing together. 

 

“oh,” riley says as he looks forward finally, seeing robert outside your door. “sorry. should we - should we come back later?”

 

“no,” you say, grabbing robert’s shoulder with your free hand and spinning him around. “he’s leaving.”

 

“kiran,” robert pleads. 

 

“is that parker?” riley asks. 

 

“who are you?” kristopher inquires. 

 

“everyone needs to shut up,” you say suddenly. “everyone needs to just shut up and calm down and shut up.” you realize you’re the one who isn’t exactly calm but you don’t care. “robert is leaving. you can’t show up unannounced and expect me to…” 

 

you don’t know how to cover up your relationship without making it obvious. without making it clear to robert that you don’t want these two approaching challengers to know about the relationship at all. if he finds that out, he’ll spin the beans for sure, just to maintain some control over you. you know all this, but in the second’s time you have to consider it all, you can’t come up with much. 

 

“you just can’t come over!” you shout. “you have to go!”

 

“kiran, i just need to talk to you for five minutes,” robert says. “please.”

 

“no!”

 

“we can come back tomorrow…” riley says awkwardly. “it’s not a big deal.”

 

“no!” you shout again. “i made  _ plans  _ to see  _ you  _ tonight,” you say, pointing at the couple. “i will make plans to see _ you  _ some  _ other  _ time.”

 

“you know what, kiran?” robert’s tone suddenly changes. he’s no longer miserable. “don’t bother. this is over.”

 

“ _ what’s  _ over?” you spit. that was not a good idea. you were trying to pretend you didn’t know what he was talking about but it leaves a big opening. a big opening that robert’s more than happy to fill so you continue quickly: “anything between us was just in your head, you crazy old man! get out!”

 

but it’s too late. robert is vindictive. robert is evil. robert is a baby boomer. 

 

“tell that to the video of us fucking,” he says slowly, a smile crossing his face. 

 

“whoa,” riley says. you look over to see he and kristopher are both raising their eyebrows, shocked by robert’s admission. 

 

“get out!” you scream loudly, lunging at robert. “get out or i’ll fucking kill you!”

 

robert does get out. he turns and walks past riley and kristopher, the latter of the two squaring up against him as he moves by. as if robert was going to challenge kristopher physically. he can’t fuck without getting winded. he could never take someone built like kristopher. 

 

and then it’s just the three of you. the four of you, including parker. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long time no post. i’ve been working on some commercial projects (ie things for sale so i cant post about them here). also sorry this is so short but i couldnt sleep tonight and thats usually when i write this story. this cliffhanger makes me wanna keep going though so expect another chapter shortly!
> 
> also just wanted to say thanks for 300 views and 21 kudos??? and all the subscriptions. not to be a beggar but feel free to leave a comment too if you want. there’s so much to this stream of conciousness story i’d change so it means a lot that people actually like it


	15. the calmest riot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you can’t let go of your secrets if you give them away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no real cw here, just in depth convos abt love so if that’s gross to you, which it is to me,,, steer clear

 

 

 

yeah, so, it’s not a great feeling, standing in your own doorway with the love of your life and his boyfriend across from you, unsure how to react to the news that you’ve made a sex tape, but it’s what’s happening right now and you may as well embrace it. after all, weren’t you talking tough after doing it? didn’t you feel like a new kiran, up until the time you got riley raped? wasn’t it supposed to be your rebirth like a phoenix, molting your feathers and starting anew? wasn’t that how it was, kiran? weren’t you talking tough?

 

it’s humiliating to think you had it in your head that you were somehow cooler, somehow more on riley’s level, just for having filmed yourself getting fucked. once you had an orgasm to that video - no, a few times - but now all you can think about is how pointless sex is. it quells the urges your stupid body longs for but your brain doesn’t actually want it. it’s just a bridge from point a to point b, a means to satisfy an end, serving as a distraction from the important stuff when you need a break. that’s all sex is. it’s not important. it’s not necessary. it doesn’t make you tough. it just makes you like everyone else. 

 

riley and kristopher are awkwardly watching robert’s retreating back. their eyes move to the ground when he disappears and you follow suit. the four of you stand there quietly until, of course, it’s kristopher who breaks the silence. 

 

“would you rather do this some other day?” his voice comes out even and easy, like your dad trying to calm you down after a tantrum. “we could come back tomorrow.”

 

you take a deep breath but still can’t meet their eyes. parker fidgets in your grasp. 

 

“no,” you say. “come in now. i’ve been wanting to see you and now you’re here, we should talk.”

 

so they come inside. riley instantly wants to play with parker, who takes to him easily. of course he does. even your rabbit loves riley. like father, like son. but parker may really be your only son. no one’s going to love you after robert. kristopher sits gingerly on your couch, leaning forward and clasping his hands between his open knees and watching riley intently. he looks like he has something to say but is trying to word it exactly right. you sit down next to him and his body turns to you but his head remains focused on his boyfriend - or who you assume is still his boyfriend, at least. you’re waiting for him to speak. you’re all waiting for him to speak. he’s waiting for himself to speak. but he can’t seem to get the words out. 

 

“kristopher and i talked for days after that night.”

 

it’s riley who finally speaks. you both look over at him but his attention is solely on parker. 

 

“we broke up for about 6 hours. the first hour, i thought, fine. it’s over. i’ll find a new place and a new roommate. maybe i’ll move back in with my parents. 4 years was a long time, anyway and i convinced myself i was bored and this was a good thing. but the next 5 hours sucked because all i wanted was kristopher.”

 

“for me, all 6 hours sucked.” you look at kristopher, who’s finally found his voice. “i knew immediately it wasn’t what i wanted. it seemed like the right thing to do because i value monogamy.” 

 

he looks you in the eye as if to say  _ i’m doing all of this for you.  _ and you realize even if he  _ was  _ lying - even if he did only say he had feelings for you to cover up your feelings for riley - he’s gone along with it for so long that it proves he  _ does  _ have some kind of feelings for you. no one does that much work for someone they don’t love. 

 

“but then after 6 hours we both came to our senses and got back together.”

 

“and that’s where things are right now,” kristopher finishes. “whatever happens, riley and i want to be together. we love each other and are too happy with each other to bail and that’s all we know.”

 

you look from boy to boy and can’t exactly piece things together. so you’re all back where you started, except now you have a sex tape that an old man is probably about to put on the internet and dox you. and a bunny. you also have a bunny. 

 

you’re the only one who really grew here. you’re the only one who’s different. who’s changed at all. you’re the only one did  _ anything,  _ and that makes you so angry that you make a very rash decision:

 

“i love you, riley.”

 

riley finally looks up from parker, a little surprised. he looks away for a second and then back to you in uncertainty. 

 

“i love you too, kir-”

 

“no,” you interrupt. “i said that wrong. i don’t mean i love you. i mean i’m  _ in love  _ with you,” you say. “i’ve been in love with you since i can remember. i never knew life without you. and i don’t want to. i’m in love with you and i told kristopher so during that road trip. so if he’s been saying he has feelings for me to cover up the fact that i have feelings for you, he can stop. i don’t need him to protect me anymore.” you’re aware you’re speaking like he’s not in the room but he doesn’t seem to be complaining. your eyes and riley’s are locked on each other. “you and i have something no one else can understand. so do you a kristopher and so do kristopher and i. but you and i, we’re… we go back so far… you weren’t just the cool boy next door. you were the love of my life. you are. you’re the only person i’ve ever truly loved romantically. the only person i’ve ever really wanted to be with. it’s you.”

 

riley stares at you, which makes you angrier. how does he not know this? he does. he must. he’s feigning shock, pretending to be racked with surprise at the calmest riot he’s ever seen: you, with a bunny at your feet, telling him you’re in love with him while sitting tensely on your own couch next to his own boyfriend. this is all for show. 

 

“i…”

 

“shut up,” you say suddenly. he does. he shuts his mouth and looks at you, confused. “don’t act like this.”

 

“act like  _ what,  _ i haven’t said anything yet.”

 

“you’re acting like you’re surprised.”

 

“i  _ am  _ surprised,” he says angrily. “don’t tell me how to feel. especially about something like this.”

 

“you’ve always known,” you accuse. “and you love it.”

 

“i don’t think that’s fair,” kristopher says. “i think riley is rightfully confused. he doesn’t… he loves you in a very particular way, kiran. it’s hard to adjust from one kind of love to another.”

 

“but he doesn’t have to adjust,” you say. “all he has to do is hear me. you either return the feelings or you don’t. it’s not something you have to search your soul for. you either love me the same way i love you or you don’t. it doesn’t take time to figure out. it’s in your gut.”

 

“then i’d be inclined to say i don’t,” he says, which stings. you asked for it but it stings all the same. “but i don’t know if that’s true.”

 

“how can you not know?”

 

“because!” he shouts. “you’ve always been like a little brother! so i’ve always  _ loved  _ you. but i don’t know if i truly don’t love you romantically or if maybe i have for a while and felt wrong about it.”

 

“why would you feel wrong?”

 

“i  _ just  _ said you’re like a little brother to me.”

 

“but i’m not,” you say. “i’m not your little brother and i’m not little. i’m an adult and i’m making my own, sane decisions. i’m not sleeping with my brother, i’m not letting someone older than me manipulate me. i’m not a baby. i’ve grown up. you need to treat me like an adult.”

 

“when have i ever treated you like a child?” riley asks flatly and that’s fair, he doesn’t, but he’s clearly still treating you like you aren’t in charge of your faculties. 

 

“i can make my own choices,” you say ultimately, picking up parker and putting him in your lap. “i  _ choose  _ to pursue you. i didn’t  _ decide  _ to be in love with you, i just am. but it’s up to me to go for it. i’m old enough to do that now.”

 

“so you’re just doing it?” he asks with an exaggerated shrug. “you’re just  _ choosing  _ to make things harder when they’re already hard enough? when my boyfriend and i have already been through some shit? you’re choosing  _ now  _ to tell me all this and you’re expecting me to just take it, to just act like it’s not a big deal? no pressure riley but i, you know, have loved you since the day i was born. that’s a  _ ton  _ of pressure!”

 

“how?!” you shout. “what  _ pressure  _ is on you? all you have to do is respond. yes or no, do you love me back?”

 

“it’s not that easy!” he shouts back. “of course i love you but i need time to figure out if i’m  _ in love  _ with you!”

 

“no!” you keep shouting. “it’s a gut thing! either you love me like that or you don’t!”

 

“that’s not how it works!”

 

“yes it is!”

 

“no it’s not, kiran! it’s not! you’re not shifting your goal posts, you’ve always been allowed to be in love with me if you wanted to! i have to adjust a lot of feelings in order to decide if the love i have for you is romantic - if it can be romantic. i’m the older one, i’m the one who had to take care of you! i’m the one who had to second guess every decision i made with and around you so that i wouldn’t be a bad influence and i was one anyway! i’m the one who has to go from younger brother to boyfriend! that’s the shift i have to make! it’s not as easy as just going with my gut because my gut doesn’t know what to do, it just wants to explode!”

 

it’s so silent after that that your ears ring. you suppose it’s fair of riley to need time but you still don’t think it’s something that’s honestly shocked him. it frustrates you that he’s pretending this is such a shock when he should just tell you he’s always suspected but he doesn’t feel the same. because that’s the god’s honest truth and you all know it. 

 

“just say you don’t love me, man,” you plead. “just say it so i can move on.”

 

“i can’t say that.”

 

“why not?”

 

“because i don’t know if it’s true.”

 

“you’d  _ know,”  _ you insist. “you’d  _ know  _ this feeling. you’d feel it so deep that you can’t ignore it.”

 

“don’t underestimate the kinds of things i can pretend don’t exist in my brain,” he says, and any other day that would make you laugh but right now it’s just sad. “there’s stuff buried so deep in there even i forget it’s there.”

 

“so what now, then?” you ask exasperatedly. “you just dig around? you search your brain for the answer?”

 

“yes,” he says simply and your eyes meet for the first time since the yelling match. “that’s exactly what happens.”

 

“and what happens in the meantime?”

 

“we leave,” kristopher says abruptly, almost startling you. you kind of forgot he was there. “we go home and let everyone rest for a few days and then revisit it later.”

 

“isn’t that what we just did?” you grown. “it’s been so long since i’ve talked to you.”

 

“but now everything’s out there. i assume. now it’s all out on the table and we all need to soak it in for a few days on our own. i’m gonna be out of town this weekend for work so we’ll talk when i get back.”

 

he seems so determined that you can hardly find it in you to fight back. it’s like kristopher knows what’s best. like he’s the dad. you and riley are his kids. you’re brothers. kristopher stands up and motions for riley to follow him to the door. 

 

“we’ll call you,” is all he says before they leave together and you sort of wish you hadn’t driven robert off forever now. you could really use a distraction. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys. quick update because medically i’ve been pretty bad and struggling to keep up with bills but i couldn’t sleep tonight so i wrote a little bit. i’ve been thinking abt making a twitter to share here so i can update the 7 people reading this on how things are going or even give supplemental fun stuff in between chapters. idk


	16. one last hurrah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you’re gonna go out, it may as well be with a bang than a fizzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no real cw for this one, its a very short chapter and setting up the finale

things have been rough. that’s really all there is to it. it’s been three days since everything blew up and they’ve been rough. 

 

you come home from work humiliated that you actually want robert’s attention again, that you wish he’d look in your direction when he isn’t instructed to. he’s kind to you in front of people, smiles and beams and speaks, but once you’re alone he goes silent and sulks, ignoring you more than feeling sorry for himself. he won’t give you the time of day and you know the time is rapidly approaching that you need to ask what porn site he’s spitefully uploaded the video to, but you dread it. you dread talking to him in general but more than that, you dread knowing where it is. seeing it online and reading comments about you.  _ dumb younger brother twink who says he’s not a twink gets railed by man older than his father and actually thought he was fucking cool for it.  _ the  _ really _ humiliating part? you dread finding out it’s not posted anywhere at all. you want to be uploaded. you want to be shared. you want people to make an account because they need to comment to find you that badly. 

 

so your work life has been rough. 

 

your dad is fine, he’s just been busy. too busy to see you. he’s president of two clubs now, one about chess and one about restoration of the downtown city so he’s been having to schedule sleepy phone calls with you where you can tell he just wants to go to bed. you haven’t seen him. you haven’t told him anything. he doesn’t know how bad things have gotten. he doesn’t know how badly you want to see him; he thinks you’re both living large and kicking ass. he thinks you’re just as busy as he is. 

 

so your family life has been rough. 

 

the vet says parker is losing fur from his stomach which might mean something bad. they run a couple tests on him and they come back fine but they sure do cost a lot. the previous owner’s number is disconnected and you don’t know how to contact them, not that they probably have any answers for you anyway. they couldn’t wait to discard parker. he didn’t even have a name when you took him. the vet thinks you’re sweet with parker in your arms and commends you for taking good care of your new animal. they just have to figure out this fur thing. 

 

you didn’t know you’d have a pet life, but it’s been pretty rough. 

 

chantal and josie called, invited you to get dinner with them so they could ask you to be in the wedding. your first question was whether riley or kristopher were in it too and they said yes, both. you didn’t have a good reason to say no and weren’t super excited to reveal your situation with them so you just said yes and stewed quietly the rest of the dinner that the lesbians are getting married while the gays are… whatever this is. you suppose the gays really refers to riley and kristopher though; you’re not a part of it. 

 

and you’re not sure how they’re doing. 

 

you hear through the lesbians that the gays are having a party this weekend and have to pretend like you just forgot. it stings to know it’s the first time you’re not invited to one of riley’s parties so yeah, your friend life is rough. 

 

you don’t know why you worry. you should know that riley can’t pass up a chance for attention. 

 

he texts you while you’re eating dinner alone in your apartment, shoveling carrots down your gullet as you watch parker do the same. he’s really adorable. just the cutest fucking addition to your home. he’s the best part of your life right now. the best decor. 

 

_ party tomorrow, you wanna come? _

 

you seethe to yourself. 

 

_ maybe. are we going to talk about everything? _

 

you put your phone down and stare at it. you know why you love riley: he protected you. he made sure you weren’t picked on. he was a superhero. he loved you. so much. he was a bad influence but a good brother. he  _ was  _ kind of like a brother to you. but feelings change. when it was just a sexual attraction, you chalked it up to taboo- not that you needed to. he wasn’t  _ actually  _ your brother. but once romance came along…

 

_ not yet. let’s just party if that’s okay? _

 

once romance came along, everything changed. 

 

_ I really need to talk about it.  _

 

_ kiran just come to the party. we can talk about it there _

 

_ No we can’t and you know that. we need an environment conducive to talking.  _

 

_ fine then dont come _

 

your heart starts to race. you suppose it’s fair enough but that effectively ends the conversation and you need it to continue. 

 

_ If you want me to come to parties and shower you in attention all night we have to talk _

 

_ kris isnt ready _

 

you frown to yourself and switch over to kris’s texts. 

 

_ Kristopher. Do you want to talk about things sometime soon? _

 

you wait a beat. 

 

_ Yes. Do you want to come ov _

 

the text stops abruptly so you wait for more. 

 

_ Sorry meant to erase that. Riley says he isn’t ready.  _

 

you roll your eyes and go back to riley. 

 

_ You have to talk about this before we can go back to normal _

 

you’re not expecting an avalanche of text but that’s what you get:

 

_ you guys dont get it. nothing can go back to normal. it cant be fixed. nothing is going to stay the same. everything is already changed. i dont want to talk about it yet because i wanted one last party. i dont want you to come over to shower me in attention. not like that at least. i want one last hurrah before everything changes forever _

 

you consider the words carefully. riley doesn’t manipulate people, not on purpose. so you believe him when he says he just wants to, effectively, say goodbye. 

 

your chest hurts. 

 

he’s right. this is goodbye. 

 

_ alright,  _ you text.  _ I’ll see you tomorrow  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can see, the end may be near. i’m thinking a few more chapters will wrap this up, but i’m not sure. this was always meant to be a vent work that continued on indefinitely so there may be a second part but with new dynamics. maybe a few new characters, too
> 
> sorry its short but i found a good ending point and figured the next chapter will be of real substance. i’ve been working on some (happier) original work but that’s for sale in my store so i cant post about it here. i always intended to keep my identity a secret here anyway but i may one day post a link to a site or something.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is in a constant state of "in progress" as I consider it a vent work, so updates will be sporadic but probably lengthy. I doubt much time will pass between "chapters" but I'm looking at this as a way to rebuild an audience in a way that doesn't put so much stress on me that I lose steam with the work itself. So subscribe for updates since they won't come in regular intervals.
> 
> As noted in my summary, this work WILL explore darker, more problematic themes, mostly of sexual natures. That doesn't mean the work itself is meant to sexualize or eroticize those themes. There will be erotic scenes but I don't necessarily intend them to be eroticA. I intend to create a discourse around those themes and raise thought-provoking questions.
> 
> As such, I will tag to the best of my ability but if you worry that there are some subjects that you can't handle without being forewarned, this might not be the work for you. I will try to put a content warning at the beginning of every chapter as well.
> 
> Finally, I will admit that many of these situations, themes and dynamics are true to my real, lived experiences. I do not mean to force anyone to relive their own traumas, so do not read this work if you think it will do that to you; I do mean, however, to handle my own in a healthy and productive way, which for me is writing. Therefore, I hope you will not treat this work as a problematic romanticization of real-world problems, but rather an exploration of trauma to gain a better understanding of it.
> 
> I believe that's it. Comments are always appreciated and happy reading!


End file.
